


Jar of Hearts

by fallingintoimagination, maddierose



Series: Broken Crown Series [1]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Erlendur is a creep, F/M, Happily Married Bjorn, Horik's daughter, Implied/Referenced Incest, Loss of Virginity, Motherhood, Non-Consensual Touching, Sex, Teen Pregnancy, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:21:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24177355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingintoimagination/pseuds/fallingintoimagination, https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddierose/pseuds/maddierose
Summary: Karena, eldest daughter of King Horik, becomes a pawn in her father's quest to destroy Ragnar Lothbrok, wed to his son Bjorn Ironside. But over time, she learns to play the game that her father and brother know so well. Ylva, a widowed shieldmaiden, realises she might be the answer for a particular Viking, if she can push past his barriers.• Season 2-3 •
Relationships: Bjorn (Vikings)/Original Female Character(s), Rollo (Vikings)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Broken Crown Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745005
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	1. Kattegat

**Author's Note:**

> So this story has been posted on Fanfic.net for some time, but I thought it was high time that I posted it elsewhere. This story is co-written, so please bear that in mind when reading.

**Warnings: none**

Karena was not entirely sure what she thought of Kattegat, she surmised as she made her arrival with her father, King Horik, and two older brothers, Erlendur and Ari. It was far smaller than the city she was from, although it did sit right on the ocean. Her dark green eyes raked over the people moving around the town. This was a place of prosperity, as Horik had rightly informed them. Perhaps she would like Kattegat more than she had first assumed.

At first, it had been a mystery to Karena as to why she had been brought along in the first place. But her eldest brother Erlendur had quickly put her mind at ease – she was sixteen years old now, and the only one of Horik’s daughters ripe for marriage. The next youngest daughter was ten, still too young to be wed. Karena had experienced her first bleeding two years past, so she was certainly a woman. It seemed that Horik was intent on finding her a husband – although why in Kattegat? It had baffled Karena, but she was not one to question her father’s intentions.

“What will I do when you raid, Father?” Karena questioned, but Horik waved her away. Clearly he was more focused on other matters rather than his eldest daughter’s questions. Instead, Karena turned her questioning gaze upon her brothers. Erlendur was nineteen now, and certainly a man. Ari was seventeen, although he would be eighteen soon enough.

“You will stay here, of course,” Ari replied, ruffling his younger sister’s hair affectionately. He was one of the few of her siblings who shared her hair colour – dark instead of blonde like Erlendur. They were the closest two in age, and so Karena had always been close with Ari. They shared a teasing relationship, far different to the seriousness between Karena and Erlendur.

“And do what?” Karena protested. Sometimes she wondered what her purpose was, although it seemed she had none aside from being around to marry off to secure an alliance. There was little she could do about Kattegat. “I can’t farm, and I am not a shield-maiden like our mother.”

“We know that very well,” Erlendur said with no lack of disdain, his critical blue gaze sweeping over his younger sister. She was a little thing still – barely over five feet tall. She had barely grown at all in the past few years, and what growth she had was not upwards, but rather the tell-tale curves of her hips and breasts. The thought of her even holding a sword was ridiculous. Karena was much too small and delicate to be a shield-maiden like their mother Gunnhild.

Karena bristled. “I am good at other things.”

“Such as?” Erlendur raised his eyebrows, as though he could not possibly believe she might be good at anything at all.

“Mending clothes,” Karena admitted defensively, before she reconsidered this. “Although Mother says that’s for servants.”

“It _is_ for servants,” Erlendur pointed out, and even Ari nodded in agreement.

“I know which plants are poisonous and which are good for healing,” Karena said proudly. It was not a typical royal occupation, however since childhood she had a fascination with watching the local healer apply pastes and poultices to her older brother’s wounds whenever they were being silly in swordplay. “Not all women are shield-maidens. Aslaug is not.”

“She’s good at bearing children,” Erlendur stated, which was evident by the fact that she had given Ragnar two sons and was pregnant again with what was thought to be a third. Karena had heard many things about Ragnar’s second wife, both good and bad. However, she did not think childbearing was something to be marvelled at.

“Aren’t most women?”

“You are reluctant to spread your legs for a man,” Erlendur said bluntly, causing Ari to laugh as his younger sister turned bright red. Karena knew about sex – how could she not with two older brothers? – but it was something she had never experienced herself.

“I am barely sixteen,” Karena reminded her brothers, glaring between them.

“Old enough to have children.” Erlendur shrugged his shoulders. Their own mother had been only a little older than Karena was now when he had been born, and Lagertha had been of an age when Ragnar’s eldest son Bjorn had been born.

“You are three years older, darling brother.” Karena adopted a saccharine sweet tone, tilting her head to the side. “Where are your wife and children?”

“I do not have to marry as young as you,” Erlendur stated.

“Who knows?” Karena tossed her dark curls over her shoulders. “I am our father’s eldest daughter. Perhaps he will want a marriage to cement this alliance to Ragnar Lothbrok.”

* * *

Ylva raked her dark hair back as she followed her Jakob through Kattegat. This was the reason she hated bringing him with her on her errands, but her Aunt had been persistent in saying he needed to start learning more about the town and its people. She sighed heavily as she watched him take off again.

"I'm sorry!" Jakob yelped as he cannoned into someone, backing up and looking up at him.

Ylva hurried over, grabbing his arm to stop him from running again. "Jakob! I'm sorry about my son."

Rollo chuckled, watching as Jakob tried to run again. "That's alright. I'm used to worse."

Ylva kept a tight grip on his wrist, looking down at him. "Did you apologise?"

"Yes, mother." Jakob nodded, scowling at his failed attempt to escape.

"How old is he?" Rollo questioned, seeing that he was only young.

Jakob grinned up at him. "I'm seven."

"Ah, I see. I don't think I've seen you around Kattegat before." Rollo directed at Ylva. He had met many people within the town but had never met her before.

"I live on a farm on the outskirts." She explained, relinquishing her hold on Jakob’s arm.

"What is your name?" He questioned, watching as Jakob looked around, shifting slightly.

"Ylva and this is Jakob." She introduced herself, glancing down at Jakob.

"What's your name?" Jakob looked up at Rollo, his eyes bright with interest.

"Rollo." He answered, watching as Jakob nearly slipped away from his mother again.

"Nice to meet you." Ylva smiled, keeping an eye on Jakob. He was a curious child and while many saw it as a good thing, she couldn’t help but think that one day his curiosity was going to get him into some danger.

"You wouldn't say that if you knew me." Rollo told her; obviously she was one of the few people in Kattegat who knew about his past mistakes. That or she feigned ignorance.

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow but was answered with a shrug. She didn’t press the matter, instead turned to Jakob and tugged him back hard when he tried to get away. "Stop running around."

"Where is his father?" Rollo glanced around, noticing that Ylva was alone. He thought it strange; especially that she was the one who had come into Kattegat to run errands.

"He died before he was born." She informed him, letting go of Jakob as he stopped trying to get away.

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." Rollo crossed his arms over his chest.

Ylva smiled slightly as she thought on her dead husband. She missed him, but she had not let her grief stop her from living her life. "He would've been a good father."

"You seem to be a good mother." Rollo had only seen a small amount of her interaction with her son, but she seemed to have a good relationship with him. "He is an only child?"

Ylva nodded, running her fingers through Jakob’s hair as he held onto her skirt tightly. "Yes, he is."

"I have a brother. It can get lonely without him."

Ylva smiled tightly. "I had three brothers. They've all died over the years. I think myself lucky for having my son.'

* * *

There was a huge feast to celebrate the arrival of Horik and his children, although Erlendur noted that the great hall was not anywhere near as big as the one at home. Ari was drinking up at the table, clearly making friends with ease. That was just his personality type – outgoing and easy to talk to. Erlendur’s eyes sought out his younger sister, and found Karena flitting around with a bright smile about her face.

Erlendur could not help but marvel at how beautiful his sister was. Any man would be lucky to marry her. He approached Karena, watching as she spun around to face him with a bright smile across her face. There was something so enthralling about her, like he was a moth and she was the flame. But Karena didn’t even seem to realise it.

“Sister. You look wonderful tonight.”

“Thank you.” Karena positively beamed, her excited gaze darting around the hall. “I wanted to meet Ragnar. Will you introduce me?”

“Alright,” Erlendur agreed, leading his sister over to where their father was talking with Ragnar. The younger man noticed their approach and offered the pair of them an indulgent smile as they stopped before him.

“Ah, Erlendur.” Ragnar glanced at Horik as he noticed Karena. “And is this another of your children?”

“This is Karena, my eldest daughter,” Horik said, as the dark-haired girl appeared to have gone a bit shy and was uncertain how to respond.

“She is a pretty one,” Ragnar said thoughtfully, taking in Karena’s small stature, pretty face and doll-like features. “Are you married, girl?”

Karena shook her head fervently. “No.”

“Not yet anyway.” Horik inspected his daughter closely. “I have been looking for someone for her.”

Ragnar shrugged his shoulders. “She is still young.”

“Yet old enough to marry,” Horik reminded him. It was about time Karena started having some children of her own. He did not have anyone in mind for his eldest daughter, but it would not take him long to find someone.

“I am going to go and dance.” Karena offered Ragnar a small smile. “It was nice to meet you, Ragnar.”

Erlendur watched as his younger sister picked up her goblet of wine and took a gulp. Everything she did was energetic and full of life. He watched as she briefly teased Ari, before twirling and laughing with some of the other young women her age. The more Erlendur watched her, the more captivating Karena seemed to become.

* * *

Aslaug glanced at the woman who had been led into her room. She had dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. She was pretty, but not overly so in Aslaug’s opinion. "You must be Ylva."

Ylva nodded, remaining just by the door. "Yes, I am."

"Come." Aslaug gestured for her to move forward with a smile. "You are young."

Ylva smiled warmly, wanting to make a good impression. "As are you."

"Not as young as you. How many years are you?" Aslaug looked over her, still unable to determine her age. She didn’t look above thirty years, nor did she look below twenty.

"Twenty five." Ylva answered, sitting down beside Aslaug as she gestured her to.

Aslaug nodded. She had heard things about Ylva from Ragnar, who had known her husband before he had died in battle alongside Ragnar. "And a mother."

"Yes." She nodded in confirmation. Part of her wished for more children, but another part of her said that Jakob was enough.

“Tell me about yourself." Aslaug glanced at her own children that were about the place.

"My parents are dead, as are my three brothers and husband. I live on a farm on the outskirts of town with my Aunt and Uncle. My Aunt, like myself, is a shield-maiden. I have a son who is seven years, his name being Jakob." Ylva told her. The story between her family was much more complex, but she didn’t feel the need to deepen then explanation.

"Does it get lonely?" Aslaug asked after Ylva finished her explanation. She had always has people to surround her and keep her from becoming lonely, but as she looked at the other woman, she couldn’t help but see that she did look somewhat lonely. Ylva nodded and Aslaug took it as a signal to move from the topic.

Ylva nodded. "Sometimes."

Aslaug moved over to her sons cot, picking up the small child and holding him close to her. Ylva watched her, thinking of when Jakob was a small baby. It had been easier to handle him then, when he was unable to run around and cause trouble. Aslaug glanced up at her with a smile. "What is your son like?"

"Energetic, but quiet at times." Ylva walked over to her, looking down at the small baby in Aslaug’s arms. "I shall bring him next time, if you like."

“Of course. I would love to meet him.”


	2. Opportunity

**Warnings: implied incestuous themes**

The feast had drawn out for as long as expected, and Karena had clearly had more to drink than Erlendur had first thought. He had followed her when she had skipped outside, to find her twirling in circles, humming and giggling. She let her head fall back as she spun giddily, either unaware that she was being watched or just too drunk to care. After a few more moments of twirling, she lost her balance and staggered, falling down onto the ground.

“Oops.”

Erlendur crossed over and hauled his little sister to her feet. She was clearly revelling in the freedoms that they had been given in Kattegat, although Erlendur had the suspicion that their father intended to marry her to one of Ragnar’s blood – most likely his older brother Rollo. The thought made Erlendur press his lips together in a firm line.

“I’m dizzy,” Karena complained, the words slurred.

“Bed time,” Erlendur declared as his younger sister pouted. “Come on. You’ve had enough for the night.”

Karena allowed him to lead her upstairs, glancing around as though looking for someone. If she was trying to find her usual partner in crime, Ari was still at the feast. Erlendur remembered feasts at home, where the two would whisper and get up to mischief together. It wasn’t often that he got to spend time alone with his sister, but he relished it when he did. He opened the door to her room and Karena immediately sprawled happily on her bed, stretching her limbs out.

“I’m a starfish,” she declared, before she seemed to remember something, rolling onto her stomach and fossicking around under her pillow. Erlendur noticed her thin nightdress on the end of the bed, picking it up and presenting it to her.

“Is this it?”

“Thank you, Erlendur.” Karena pushed herself unsteadily to her feet. “Can you help me with my laces?”

“Alright.” Erlendur sucked in his breath, walking over and unlacing the back of his younger sister’s dress. He was in a dangerous situation, and he knew it. It was wrong for him to desire his own sister, he knew that. But Karena was completely drunk, surely if he just kissed her, just once, she wouldn’t even remember it…

Erlendur slid the dress off her shoulders, watching as Karena held up her nightgown. She was oblivious to the fact that he was doing a bit more than just unlacing her dress, and Erlendur couldn’t help but trail his fingers down her back. Her skin was smooth and soft, warm to the touch, and he bit down on his tongue momentarily.

“Are you going to put it on?”

“You’re here,” Karena said, suddenly becoming shy.

“I’m not looking, sister.” Erlendur drew back, sitting on the edge of Karena’s bed. He was lying, but she didn’t have to know that. She didn’t have to know anything. He watched her avidly as she tugged her dress off and pulled her nightgown on. It was too dark to see much, but he thought he caught a glimpse of her breasts, just a quick look at a thigh before she had tugged the nightgown into place. He eyed her as she tugged her dark hair out of its braids.

“You have lovely hair,” he remarked.

“Thank you.” Karena sat down on the bed beside him, clearly oblivious to the fact that he had been staring openly as she’d changed. “I wish it was blonde like yours and Mother’s.”

“I like it how it is,” Erlendur stated, reaching out to touch a silky strand. However Karena was clearly exhausted, as she crawled up the bed and curled up under the blankets happily.

Erlendur was torn between whether he should stay or leave. The wicked side of him said that if he was to do anything…just a light kiss, or even a quick touch…it would go unnoticed by his intoxicated sister. But the good part of him said that it was wrong, that he shouldn’t even lust for his sister in the first place let alone take advantage of her vulnerable state. Tugging his boots off, Erlendur decided to stay – but only as a brother. He and his siblings had shared beds many times in their childhood years, surely it was no different now.

* * *

Ylva raked her hair back. She’d forgotten what the celebration could be like. They often led to many of the men being drunk, stumbling around the village trying to find their way home. It also often meant that sleeping bodies were often scattered among the streets in the morning. She didn’t see why they needed to have such a big celebration for the arrival of Horik and his family, but she had learnt to ignore them over time.

"Hello there." She turned around when she heard a familiar male voice, although it was slightly slurred due to the alcohol.

"Rollo." She greeted him, turning to face him.

Rollo rakes his eyes over her body, making no move to hide it, earning a questioning glance from her. "Ylva. You look lovely tonight.”

"Thank you." She was sure the compliment was just due to his level of intoxication, but she saw no need to be rude about it, or question it for that matter.

"I hear you are to serve Aslaug." He spoke slower than normal, as if struggling to form a coherent sentence.

Ylva nodded in confirmation. She had only recently started to serve the other woman, but the two got along and she found herself befriending her. "I am."

"As a maid?" Rollo raised an eyebrow.

Ylva nodded in answer. "Among other things."

"Maybe you could serve me." He smirked, and Ylva knew he had a double meaning to his words.

"Serve you how?" She asked as she raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. She was not used to such attention from drunken males, but she was willing to wait it out and see exactly what Rollo was implying, although she had an idea. "I can go get you another drink..."

"That would be nice. But what I'm thinking of is even nicer." Rollo told her, stepping closer towards her, prompting her to take a step away from him.

Ylva rolled her eyes. She was quickly growing bored of the conversation, as well as finding Rollo to be intimidating. She was only 5’8, while he was broad and stood at over 6’. "Perhaps."

"Perhaps? You don't think it would be?" Rollo was notorious for sleeping around, and Ylva knew it. She had no intention to become one of his conquests, especially while he was drunk.

"You haven't told me yet what you want to do." She pointed out, although they both knew that she knew exactly what he wanted.

"You look like you'd be a good fuck." He shrugged, reeling back as her fist collided with his face, causing him to rub his cheek. He hadn’t expected her to do that, he was used to women being more pliant. "That wasn't kind."

"Well, you were quite rude." She countered, crossing her arms over her chest.

"By saying you would be good in bed? That's a compliment. But perhaps I'm wrong." He staggered slightly as he moved a step closer to her again.

"Goodnight, Rollo." She told him as she walked away, pushing her hair out of her face and rubbing her arms. It was cold out, and she sincerely hoped that it would be a nicer and warmer day tomorrow.

* * *

Karena woke to a throbbing headache and Erlendur’s arm draped loosely around her waist. It was hardly uncommon – she had many brothers and sisters, and often it was more prudent that they shared beds. However it was usually one of her younger sisters she shared with, where they would whisper secrets and about the boys they admired. Karena was too old for all of that now, particularly as she may soon be married herself.

Erlendur’s snoring did little to ease Karena’s headache, and she pushed herself up with a groan. Nausea roiled in her stomach, and she could feel bile forcing its way up her throat. Hurrying over to the window, Karena forced it open, just in time to vomit her dinner up. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, before glancing over her shoulder at her brother’s yawn.

“How are you feeling?” Erlendur asked, his tone indicating that he was more smug than he should have been. Karena did not remember everything that had happened the night before, but she certainly remembered drinking too much. Her father had come over and caught her arm, murmuring that she should interact with Rollo. It had been clear to her that Horik saw a potential match between her and Rollo, and the thought made her queasy again. The man was not unattractive, but he was old enough to be her father!

“Sore,” Karena sighed, before noting with a frown that Erlendur was smirking. “Is that funny?”

“It amuses me somewhat,” Erlendur stated dryly, resting his arms behind his head and closely observing his sister. “I told you to stop.”

“I should dress,” Karena murmured, watching as her brother simply stretched out further as if he was going to make no move to leave her bed. Feeling self-conscious, she indicated the door. “You can’t stay, Erlendur.”

With a sigh, Erlendur heaved himself from the bed and walked out of her room. Releasing a breath she didn’t realise she had been holding, Karena went through her dresses. No doubt her father would want her to dress to impress Rollo, who he seemed determined to match her with despite her disapproval. She had heard tales of Rollo, as a drunkard, a brute and a womaniser. She certainly did not wish to marry him.

Nonetheless, Karena took out one of her lower-cut dresses and pulled it on. She sighed heavily as she examined her reflection in the mirror. She was so damn small, and sometimes she really hated it. She fastened the ties of her dress to make the swell of her cleavage slightly more prominent. Her breasts, although not non-existent, were quite small. Heaving another sigh, Karena tugged the dress off in frustration.

No, it wouldn’t do at all. She wasn’t displaying her wares like a prostitute. She would be proper and civil and if Rollo or any of the other men her father was considering for her didn’t like it, then that was their own problem. Karena was not about to pretend she was womanly and worldly and something she wasn’t.

* * *

Ylva smiled as she breathed in the fresh morning air. It was always peaceful in Kattegat early in the morning. She glanced around; smirking when she noticed Rollo sprawled against the side of a building, a bruise on his cheek from the night before. She strode over to him, looking down at him. "Nice bruise."

"Go away." He groaned, squinting up at her.

"Sore head?" She questioned, earning a glare in answer from him. "Have you had any water?"

Rollo shook his head, pushing himself to his feet. "Not yet."

Ylva sighed, looking around and grabbing him a glass of water, handing it over to him. "Drink. By the way, that bruise looks like it hurts."

Rollo drank from the cup, downing it quickly before getting some more. His head was pounding and the light was only making it worse. He instinctively reached up and touched his cheek, feeling the pain flare under his tips, although he had received worst injuries in the past. He had another cup of water before answering Ylva’s question, raking a hand down the front of his face. "Only a bit."

"You invited me to your bed last night. Perhaps you should learn to be subtler in your approaches to women. Not all of them are easily bedded." Ylva suggested, examining the side of his face.

"I apologise." Rollo told her, a slight tone of sincerity in his voice. He paused, thinking for a moment before asking her another question. "Was I rude?"

"Yes, and I hit you." She told him, unable to hold the amusement out of her tone.

"I don't blame you..." Rollo chuckled. He wasn’t used to women having enough flare in their personality to question him or challenge him. He found it oddly refreshing. "Feels like you hit hard."


	3. Ruination

**Warnings: none**

Ari watched as his younger sister pranced around the hall, thoroughly enjoying herself. Kattegat seemed to have brought out the best in Karena – she drank and danced and laughed. There was no doubt in Ari’s mind that was what their father had intended for her, but Ari found that there was one whose eyes never left Karena, someone who could certainly never be a suitor.

Erlendur crossed over to Karena, catching her by the waist as she spun to face him. Ari watched their conversation, how Erlendur kissed their sister’s cheek and talked animatedly with her for a few moments, before leaving her side. Ari thought perhaps he was overreacting, but in the past few years since their sister had developed more of a woman’s body, Erlendur’s attitude towards her had…changed. He could not explain it.

“Our sister is in good spirits tonight,” Ari commented as Erlendur approached him. Tomorrow, both of them would join their father and Ragnar Lothbrok on the voyage to the lands Ragnar had discovered. Karena would stay in Kattegat herself, and Ari thought their father hoped she would attract the attention of Rollo, Ragnar’s older brother. A traitor once, but Ragnar’s blood nonetheless.

“She’s centre of attention,” Erlendur agreed, taking a sip of his ale.

“Just as Father wants her to be,” Ari stated, watching as Karena talked with Aslaug. “Why else did he bring her, if not to have her wed?”

Erlendur chuckled, and Ari watched his older brother closely. His gaze was fixated on Karena, never straying. A caring and protective older sibling, perhaps. For what else could it be?

“You pay much attention to her,” Ari said, plucking up the courage to state what was on his mind. “And you are sometimes possessive of her, why?”

Erlendur shrugged. “She is our sister.”

“Yet you look at her at times like…” Ari couldn’t put it into words. He was the only member of the family to notice how Erlendur gazed at Karena. The other siblings were too young, their mother too distant and their father…Horik had other matters on his mind.

Erlendur frowned. “Like what?”

“Like she is more to you than that.” Ari licked his dry lips. “Do you have…affections for her?”

“No,” Erlendur responded sharply, his eyes narrowing as he observed his younger brother. Ari wanted to apologise to him, say that he wasn’t trying to offend by suspecting Erlendur lusted for their sister, but Karena skipped over to them before he could say anything else.

“I’m tired,” she declared. Their sister – on the brink between being a girl and being a woman. Sometimes she seemed as though she could understand exactly the way their father thought, other times she seemed an innocent in his schemes.

“Aren’t you old enough to see yourself to bed, dear sister?” Ari asked with a grin.

Erlendur chuckled. “Obviously not.”

“Can I jump on your back and you take me there?” Karena inquired. It was the sort of behaviour they had exhibited as children, but they were children no longer.

“Father would not approve of such behaviour,” Ari admitted.

“I am tired as well,” Erlendur remarked, “Too tired to carry you.”

“Oh, alright then.” Ari relented, seeing how Karena’s full lips formed a pout at their refusal to take part in her games. “Hop up.”

Giggling gleefully, Karena jumped up on Ari’s back. He pretended to almost collapse under her weight, despite the fact that the small girl weighed barely anything. Mucking around with Karena, he could almost forget the way Erlendur watched her, that battle awaited him on the morrow.

* * *

Helena glanced around as she walked into her niece’s home. Ylva had lived between the two houses since the death of her husband, having recently decided to dwell more within her one in Kattegat. She smiled as she saw her sitting with her son, cutting his too long hair. "Ylva."

Ylva glanced up at her Aunt’s voice, smiling at the older woman. "Helena."

"How is Jakob?" Helena questioned, glancing at the young boy who looked displeased.

Jakob looked up at her with a smile, despite his displeasure at having his hair cut. "I'm fine."

Helena watched as Ylva finished cutting his hair, pushing him up from the chair. "That's good."

"Run along." She told him, watching as he ran from the room in a flurry of excitement, playing with his hair already, before turning to her Aunt. "Would you like a drink?"

Helena smiled. It had been quite a journey from her country village and she was indeed parched. She was seeing one of her late husbands brother’s and had decided to visit her niece. "Of course. How are you finding Kattegat?"

"It is nice. I like it here." Ylva told her as she grabbed a cup and poured her some water before sitting across from her.

Helena smiled. It had been a long time since she’d seen the other woman happy, although she thought it was also due to her son growing older, allowing her to be more open with what she did. "That is good."

"How is the farm?" Ylva questioned as she leaned back in her chair. She had enjoyed living on the farm and knew she would go back and visit eventually, but she also wished Jakob to grow up somewhere that was busier than the small village he had been born in.

"It is good. I have heard Horik and his offspring are present." It was no secret that Horik had come to Kattegat, and also that few people were happy about his arrival. It meant trouble. “Don't trust them."

"I don't intend to." Ylva assured her as she sipped her own drink. She examined her glass for a moment before remembering the night she had run into Rollo when he was drunk. She couldn’t help but inform her Aunt of what had happened. “The men here are just very forward when drunk."

"What happened?" Helena raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the thought of a story.

"I ran into one who I later punched. He was quite rude." Ylva told her, earning a short spout of laughter from Helena.

"Well done." Helena grinned. She had been a shield maiden when she was younger, and had passed the skills onto her niece. It was something the two women had bonded over from when Ylva had been young.

Ylva smiled. She was grateful that Helena had taught her how to fight and defend herself. It was a useful skill to have. "I can take care of myself due to your training."

* * *

Karena sat in her room reading, utterly bored. It was quiet without her father and brothers around, so she had resigned herself to her books. Although a royal child, Karena had always been fascinated by herbs and what they could do. She knew which plants made people sick and which would make them better. She was by no means a herbalist, but she knew enough, and was always seeking to expand her knowledge.

The sound of screaming from outside roused Karena from her book, causing her to set it down and peer tentatively outside. Her door slammed open and she backed away, vaguely recognising the man who confronted her: Jarl Borg, a man her father did not like, who he had forbidden from accompanying them on the raids. Karena balled her hands into fists, but she had nothing to defend herself with.

“Jarl Borg,” she stated, with as much courage as she could muster.

“Child,” he responded.

She prickled at that. “My name is Princess Karena, eldest daughter of King Horik. I am not a child.”

“You  _ are _ a child,” Borg grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of her room, pulling her into the hall in which she had been feasting only nights before. She swallowed, but realised that if Borg had intended to kill her, he would have already done so.

“My father will kill you for this,” Karena said, as Borg tossed her into a chair.

“I have not harmed you,” he stated, examining her closely, “You are worth more to me alive.”

Karena could not help but be afraid. She knew what her people did to women they captured – raped them, took them as spoils of battle. She doubted that Borg would do such a thing, but she did not doubt he would give her to his men if she challenged him. As a virgin, Karena could think of nothing worse than to be violated in such a manner.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Her father was not here to defend her, her brothers were not here to protect her. She had to prove that she was not a child, but a woman capable of plotting and manipulating her way out of the situation, just as her father manipulated to his own advantage.

* * *

Ylva glanced around at the commotion that had erupted around them, grabbing Jakob’s arm and heading towards Aslaug’s house. She knew that most of the men were away and that they could not defend Kattegat themselves. It was best that they left, and she intended to take her new friend with her. She tugged Jakob along with her as she walked into Aslaug’s house, a sword in her other hand. She hoped she would not have to use it, but she knew it was best to be prepared for anything.

Aslaug glanced at her as she entered. She was in the middle of gathering her children with Siggy and Rollo helping her. “Jarl Borg is here."

"I'll try and fight him off." Rollo told the three women as he grabbed his own axe.

"We have to leave." Ylva told them, watching as the other two women kept gathering items, Jakob running over to Siggy to help her.

Rollo moved over to her, looking past her and outside. "You take Aslaug."

Ylva frowned. She knew that him staying behind was a stupid decision on his part and one she was not going to let slide. "Are you not coming?"

"I'll try and fight him off." Rollo repeated, stepping around her and moving to go outside.

Ylva grabbed his arm. "You'll be killed. Besides, Aslaug needs more than one person helping her."

"I'll try and lead a defence. If that doesn't work, I'll come with you." He sighed, glancing around at the few men who were gathering.

Ylva helped Aslaug and Siggy outside, turning back to him. "It isn't worth it. He's here for one purpose, and you know that."

Rollo shook his head, clenching his fists. "Just go."

"Men." Ylva rolled her eyes as Aslaug, Siggy and herself moved away from Kattegat.

Aslaug glanced back at the way they had come. "They all want to be remembered for something."

* * *

It had been several days since Jarl Borg had taken her captive, and Karena found herself drinking copious amounts of wine at dinner. She cut her meat slowly, fully aware of Borg’s gaze upon her. Jarl Borg observed the girl before him closely. He had not imagined he would find one of Horik’s offspring in Kattegat, but it was a pleasant surprise, knowing he now had leverage over Horik.

She was perhaps fifteen or sixteen, a pretty thing, in the way a flower was pretty before it came into bloom. Little Karena was not yet a woman, despite the fact that she might try and act as though she was.

“This was not a wise choice,” Karena stated, setting her goblet down. “Ragnar and my father will kill you.”

“You are a child.” Borg waved a dismissive hand. “You know nothing of men’s minds. Women do not think tactically when it comes to fighting.”

“But we do when it comes to politics,” Karena responded smoothly, taking another sip of her wine. “Just as I know nothing of how a man’s mind works, you know nothing of a woman’s.”

He frowned at that. “I know more of this world than you, little girl.”

“Stop calling me a little girl,” Karena said through clenched teeth. She was tired of being ridiculed, as though her only worth was her relation to her father. She leaned back and examined her empty goblet. “May I have more wine?”

“Go ahead,” Borg gestured to the jug, and Karena poured herself quite a bit more. She knew she had been treated well and was not complaining. She simply grew agitated, wondering what Borg planned to do with her upon the return of her family.

“I do not believe you will harm me,” Karena said boldly. “Torture would be ill befitting of a Jarl.”

“I did not say I would torture you, did I?” Borg asked, glancing meaningfully at the men who stood behind him.

Karena’s eyes narrowed. “If you let any of your men touch me, they would die too.”

“You keep speaking of death.” Borg leaned across the table. “What do you know of it? Have you seen it or dealt it before?”

Karena scoffed. It was their way of life to see death, and despite being a royal child, she was no different. Perhaps she had never taken a life herself, but she had often seen lives being taken.

“Of course I have seen it.”

“But you have not killed someone?” Borg pressed. Karena had been present at the last Uppsala, watched the sacrifices that were made. She had been a child of ten years at the time, but she remembered all too well.

“I am not a shield maiden,” Karena admitted.

“Then you know little of death,” Borg said dismissively, waving a hand as if her opinion meant nothing. Seeing that the girl had finished her meal, he gestured for his men to come forward. It would not do to give Horik’s brat too much freedom. “Escort her to her room and make sure she stays there.”

* * *

Ylva raked a hand through her hair as she finally moved from where she had sat beside Aslaug. The other woman had refused to sleep until Ylva had finally coerced her into it. She glanced at Siggy who also lay asleep on a small lounge, with Jakob on the floor beside her. Ylva walked over and fixed the blanket that was on him before kissing his cheek and straightening up, walking over to where Rollo stood on guard. As she moved over she grabbed a cup of water, handing it to him when she stood beside him.

"Thank you." He sipped it, glancing at her as she wrapped the blanket she held tighter around her shoulders. "Are you cold?"

"A little." Ylva spoke softly, afraid to wake the people who were sleeping.

"One of Horik's children was captured. The eldest girl." Rollo informed her as he sat down, Ylva sitting beside him, looking around the place.

"He won't hurt her." She picked at the blanket. Her mind was still whirring and she knew she would not be able to sleep for a while.

"He has leverage over Horik." He sighed, glancing at her as he felt her eyes boring into his side. He raised an eyebrow, prompting her to smile at him before looking away. "Why are you looking at me?"

Ylva raised an eyebrow, looking back at him instead of her hands. "Am I not allowed to?" 

"I didn't say that." He shook his head, watching as she hugged the blanket tighter around herself, her eyes scanning the tree line. "We are safe here."

"I don't feel it." Ylva admitted, frowning when she heard him sigh. "What?"

"They will not find us." He assured her, although he could tell she was not convinced. He looked over his shoulder, noticing that her son was huddled up on the floor with a couple of blankets. He had almost forgotten that she had a child. "You worry for your son."

Ylva nodded. She had always worried for Jakob, since before he was born and his father had died raiding. She had always been unsure as to how she would survive raising him on her own, but her aunt had helped her greatly. "He is only young, and I cannot be both a mother and father to him."

"Yet you have been." He pointed out. He had no doubt in his mind that Jakob would grow to be a strong man, even without a father figure to help guide him.

Ylva glanced at her son before looking down at her hands. "Not very well."

"I do not believe that." Rollo told her, watching as she played with her hands in her lap. "You are a good parent from what I have seen."

Ylva smiled slightly, glancing at him. She was unable to help the shiver that ran through her, rubbing her arms to try and cause some warmth. "Thank you.”

"Cold?" Rollo questioned. She wasn’t small by any means, but she was thinner than he and she looked as if she were about to freeze.

"A little." She admitted, feeling him drape his cloak around her shoulders. The warmth from the fabric began to bleed into her cold joints and she tubbed it tightly around her before kissing his cheek. "Thank you, Rollo."

Rollo shrugged, getting to his feet. "We should go inside."


	4. Lust and Loss

**Warnings: sex scene**

Ragnar Lothbrok looked around with delight as he started to light the grain on fire. It was true, it would make things difficult in the winter. But he would rather have no grain than have Jarl Borg’s tyrannical reign over Kattegat. He glanced at Bjorn, who was setting another pile of grain alight. Ah, how his son had grown. He was a man now, eighteen years old, six foot two and muscular. Very different from the little boy who had departed with his mother many years ago.

A small figure almost collided with them, making a startled noise. Bjorn moved faster, grabbing the figure and dragging them into the light of Ragnar’s torch. Ragnar recognised her instantly by her slight build and doll-like features – Horik’s daughter, Karena. She had apparently been held prisoner by Jarl Borg, but it seemed that the girl had managed to escape.

“It is Princess Karena, Horik’s daughter,” Ragnar stated.

“What shall we do with her?” Bjorn asked, examining the girl with curiosity. “Are we taking her with us?”

The girl lifted her chin. “I’m not being ‘taken’ anywhere, but I will come with you.”

Her comment earned chuckles from both men – indeed, Ragnar had to admit that Karena had spirit. She might be a little thing, but there was no doubt in his mind that Karena had value beyond being Horik’s daughter.

“Shall we leave?” Bjorn asked, watching as the grain continued to burn.

“Come.” Ragnar gestured for Bjorn and Karena to follow him as he made his departure. “Did he hurt you, Karena?”

“No.” The brunette shook her head. She did appear unscathed, but sometimes it was hard to tell – Borg was clearly a man without honour considering his actions, and he had wanted to check that nothing dishonourable had been done to the girl. “He treated me mostly as a guest, aside from the fact that I was kept under close guard.”

Ragnar did not fail to notice Bjorn’s curious glances at Karena every so often. Clearly, his son found the girl to be attractive. A small smirk pulled at the corners of Ragnar’s lips, before he continued back towards his family.

* * *

Ylva hit at the wooden person as hard as she could, releasing her pent up frustration and stress. She continued to hit at it until her arms were sore and heavy, leaving her unable to swing the sword efficiently. She let her arms fall to her side, breathing heavily as she noticed Rollo stalking around, a frustrated look on his expression.

"What?" He questioned as he looked up, having noticed her watching him.

"Nothing." She told him, walking over to him, watching as he sat down. "You just look agitated." 

Rollo sighed heavily, watching as she put her sword down before sitting beside him. "I worry for my brother and nephew."

"They will be fine." She assured him. Both Bjorn and Ragnar were exceptional fighters, and Ragnar had a clever mind.

Rollo glanced at her. He did not understand how she could be so relaxed about the thought of people she knew running into danger, or how she could have so much faith that they would be alright. "Jarl Borg has many men."

"Relax, Rollo. They will return." She assured him, resting her hand on his shoulder and squeezing it gently in a comforting manner.

"Perhaps." He sighed heavily, knowing she was right, despite him being unsure. "There is much you do not know, about Ragnar and I."

"Then why don't you tell me?" Ylva drew her hand back, reaching up and taking out the braids in her hair, letting the dark strands fall around her face and shoulders.

"I betrayed him." Rollo muttered, glancing at her to see a look of question in her eyes. She wanted him to continue, but also did not wish to push him if he did not want to speak about it or explain the nature of the events that had passed. "I lived in his shadow, and I wanted more than that. Now I've come to realise it was wrong."

"Everyone makes mistakes and learns from them." She spoke softly and quietly, as if trying to keep a secret between them, although her words were the truth and common knowledge. She rose to her feet as he sank into silence. The sun was close to setting and her stomach growled in protest at not being fed sooner. "Come. It is time we ate."

* * *

Bjorn was greatly anticipating the battle that would occur when Jarl Borg realised what had happened. He had grown bored of living with his stepfather, angry that the man did not respect his mother. Now that he was with Ragnar again, he felt free – to participate in battle, to feel a sword in his hand and blood splash his skin. It excited him, although he kept it to himself.

Bjorn watched Karena as she ran a brush through her glossy chocolate brown hair. He had of course seen women in his time growing up. Some of them had been his own age. Yet Karena was the prettiest, he thought, as he examined her closely. A heart-shaped face, full lips, wide green eyes and a little nose. There was something child-like about her, something innocent. Yet she still possessed the curves of a young woman.

“You have beautiful hair,” Bjorn blurted out, unable to help himself. Karena looked at him, a little surprised, but then she smiled.

“Thank you. It’s just brown though. Quite plain.”

“It is not plain,” Bjorn objected, unable to understand how she was able to so easily downplay her loveliness.

“You are Ragnar’s son, are you not?” Karena asked, shifting over so that she was sitting beside him. “Bjorn.”

He nodded. “I am.”

Her smile was sweet. “I have heard much about you. How old are you?”

“Eighteen years,” Bjorn replied. She looked as though she was younger, but not by much. “And you?”

“Sixteen,” Karena responded. Her gaze drifted to Lagertha, although Bjorn knew that was not uncommon. His mother was a proud, formidable woman. There was admiration in Karena’s green eyes as she gazed at Lagertha, before she began to busy herself picking at the hem of her dress.

“Are you alright?” Bjorn inquired.

“Hmm? Oh, yes.” She looked up and offered him a quick smile. “I am just concerned for my family.”

Bjorn nodded. He did not remember ever having met Horik in the past, nor the sons that had accompanied him on the raid. Karena glanced at him, giving him another of those sweet smiles of hers.

“You should prepare yourself, for the battle.”

“Perhaps we will talk after,” Bjorn said.

She flushed slightly. “I hope so.”

* * *

Karena ran down the docks towards her father, flooded with relief at the sight of him. She had heard that her family had been attacked, and was so happy to see her father safe. Horik smiled at his daughter’s approach, but Karena’s green eyes darted around, searching for her brothers.

“Where is Ari?” she inquired. It did not surprise Horik that she was searching for the younger of the two – she and Ari had always been close.

“He fell,” Horik confessed, averting his eyes. The memory was still fresh in his mind – Ari had not been his heir, but the boy had been full of personality. Karena’s eyes widened in horror as she watched her father.

“He’s dead?”

“Yes,” Horik stated, pulling his daughter close when she put a hand over her mouth in shock. Tears ran down the girl’s cheeks as she mourned the loss of her brother, and for a few moments Horik rubbed her back and held her close. After a little she drew back, wiping her eyes.

“Where is Erlendur?” she asked, wondering if her eldest brother had lost his life in battle also.

“He is resting in his room,” Horik stated. Karena drew away from her father, heading into Kattegat and looking for Erlendur. She knew that he must surely be grieving too – he and Ari had been quite close, the three of them had all relied upon each other for fun as young children. To have Ari gone…it didn’t feel right. Karena would never have thought to lose her brother when he was only seventeen years old.

Karena staggered into Erlendur’s room, noticing her older brother sprawled on his bed. He sat up at the sight of her, and she couldn’t help but burst into tears again. Erlendur walked over and pulled her close.

“Karena,” he murmured in her ear.

“I…I can’t believe he’s gone.” She clutched desperately at his shirt, as if afraid of losing him too. He stroked back her hair as she sobbed, burying her face in his shirt and holding onto him tightly.

“It’s alright, sister.”

“But it’s not.” Karena drew back slightly, looking up at Erlendur with tearful green eyes. “He…he was so good to me, and now…now he’s gone.”

“You still have me,” Erlendur insisted, watching as his sister began to calm down, sniffling softly. He sat down on the bed, gathering Karena into his lap. She curled close to him, allowing him to loop his arms around her waist and hold her close. “What do you need?”

“I just need you here, to hold me,” Karena said, before she glanced back at him. “Was it quick?”

“Yes,” Erlendur replied, a lie, but one that Karena needed to hear. He did not want to upset her further. He rubbed her back, watching as she wriggled out of his lap and lay down on her side.

“Can you rub my back?” Karena mumbled, and Erlendur obliged, massaging her back as she rolled onto her stomach. She was starting to feel a little better, but her eyes were sore from crying and her head was starting to ache. She closed her eyes, wishing she could fall asleep.

“You should go to bed,” Erlendur remarked.

She shook her head. “Don’t want to move. Are you going to stay and sleep? I don’t want to be alone.”

Erlendur lay down, putting an arm around his younger sister. Karena smiled softly and buried her face in his shirt, and he traced his fingers up and down her back. She looked up at him with emotional eyes.

“I love you, brother.”

He smiled. “I love you too.”

* * *

Ylva ran the water soaked cloth over her arms as she looked into the water. It had started out clear, but was now bleeding to a deep pink as she washed the blood and gore from herself. Her muscles ached, but the adrenaline of the fighting still pumped through her veins like wildfire. She sighed in content as she ran the cloth across her neck, patting it along the back of it where she felt her muscles tense.

She wasn’t the only one in the room, as Rollo has accompanied her when she had decided to wash the evidence of the battle from herself. She glances over at him to see that he had removed his shirt and was also cleaning blood from himself. She’d be lying if she said he wasn’t attractive and she couldn’t help her eyes as they wandered up and down his body. He was well built and his muscles were defined, with her also finding his tattoos to be quite attractive.

"Are you enjoying the view?" He questioned her as he strode over to her.

Ylva raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at her lips. "Perhaps."

"Just perhaps?" He put an arm around her waist, drawing her close to him.

Ylva shook her head at his arrogance as she began to place light kisses along his neck. She moved her hands to trail them down his chest, nibbling at him neck when a groan rumbled through his chest. His hand came up to grope her breasts, earning a small moan from her as she continued her assault on his neck. Rollo continued to focus on her chest, tugging at the laces of the simple dress she wore.

She let her hands roam from his broad shoulders and muscular chest to the laces of his pants, her slim and nimble fingers easily pulling the laces apart. Before she was able to go further, however, Rollo shoved her backwards onto the bed, earning a gasp of shock from her as she fell heavily onto the bed.

As Rollo set about divesting himself of his pants, Ylva pushed her dress off. Rollo moved over to the bed, climbing on top of her and settling himself between her legs. Both of them were consumed with their lust, the adrenaline from the battle still pumping through them. She attacked his neck again, her teeth grazing along his skin harder than before as he thrust into her.

He moved his hands down from her waist to rest on her hips, gripping them tightly as he moved against her. They both knew there would be bruises in the morning, but neither cared. Ylva dig her nails hard into his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his blood against her fingers as they dragged down his back as he upped his pace, moving harder and faster.

She moved her hips against his as the two began to let out breathy moans, the impact of his thrusting knocking the breath out of her at times, her nails digging in harder to keep purchase on something. It was only a few more moments before a particularly hard thrust threw her over the edge and her body into convulsions of pleasure against his. Rollo finished a moment after her, the two of them lying there together for a moment as they caught their breaths.

When she felt her heart rate slow, Ylva got to her feet, collecting her dress from the floor and pulling it on. She glanced at Rollo who had also begun to dress. Neither of them said a word to each other as she left, raking a hand through her tangled hair.


	5. Warriors

**Warnings: physical abuse**

A feast had been perhaps the last thing that Karena felt like after the news of Ari’s death, however she also realised that there was a need for celebration due to the success of defeating Jarl Borg. Her eyes were drawn to Bjorn, who was standing over with Ragnar. Karena thought he was an attractive young man – he had the blue eyes of his parents, and the blonde hair of his mother. His build was like his uncle Rollo’s, tall and muscular. In all, Karena couldn’t help but find him pleasing to look at.

She glanced at her elder brother, who was sipping his wine and watching her closely. Erlendur did not appear to be at all impressed with her attention directed at Bjorn, his lips pressed into a firm line. Karena picked up the jug of ale and placed it in front of him.

“Drink, brother.”

“I think I have had enough.” He shook his head, before his expression became slightly concerned. “How are you faring?”

“Well,” Karena stated, knowing that he was referring to how she was coping with Ari’s death. It had been difficult at first, but now she thought about him drinking and joking in Valhalla, and it all seemed a little better. “Jarl Borg did not harm me. I made friends while you were away, such as Bjorn, Ragnar’s son. He is close to your age.”

“Hm.” A shadow crossed Erlendur’s face at the mention of Bjorn’s name, and he didn’t appear too happy about the thought of them being friends.

“What is it?” Karena inquired. She didn’t even think her brother and Bjorn had interacted, so she couldn’t see why Erlendur would have a problem with him.

“Nothing, sister,” Erlendur responded rather curtly, before he pushed himself up and went over to their father. Karena sighed heavily, wondering what she had done that had irritated Erlendur. Perhaps it was just the fact that Ari’s death was impacting upon him too, and he didn’t want to show it.

“Karena.”

She noticed that Bjorn had come to sit beside her, and fought to hide the fact that her cheeks were flaming with heat.

“Bjorn. I hear you fought well. You will be a warrior like your parents.”

He smiled at her praise. “I hope so.”

“I wish I was a warrior,” Karena said wistfully. She had tried, years before. She had donned a tunic and pants and joined her brothers in the training yard. How old had she been then, eleven, twelve? Erlendur and Ari had both roared with laughter when she had tried to pick up a sword, and she had gotten upset and gone to her father. From that day, Karena had known she was not destined to be a shield-maiden.

“Why is that?” Bjorn asked, examining her closely.

Karena brushed her dark curls over her shoulders. “My mother is. My father is. My brothers are, or were.”

“You are different from them,” Bjorn assured her. Although Karena knew that, it was sometimes hard for her to come to terms with the fact that she was…well, soft. She was small and not much use physically, while even her twelve-year-old brother Dahl was stronger than her – and taller, too.

“I know some things,” Karena admitted, “Just not useful things.”

“Such as?” Bjorn persisted, clearly curious.

She chewed at her lip. “A lot about herbs.”

“That is useful and impressive,” Bjorn complimented her, causing Karena to flush obviously. It was only Ari who had been enthusiastic about her hobbies. Erlendur had dismissed them as girlish nonsense and certainly not for a princess.

“I am glad you think so,” Karena replied a little shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“I still love your hair,” Bjorn stated, reaching out to touch one of the dark curls. Karena was certain that she must be bright red by now.

“You flatter me.”

* * *

Horik took a sip of his ale as he watched Ragnar’s eldest son flirting with Karena. She was such an innocent when it came to the attentions of men. There had been young men even in his own court who had watched Karena with admiration and perhaps even desire, but she had never seemed to notice. However, she noticed now – whether it was because of the obviousness of Bjorn’s attention or because she reciprocated his interest, Horik was not certain.

“It would seem that Bjorn has taken a liking to your sister,” Horik remarked to Erlendur, who scowled as he watched Bjorn toying with one of Karena’s curls.

“I do not like it. I do not trust him.”

“Perhaps he will make a woman of her,” Horik stated bluntly. While his sons had both become sexually active, Karena had never so much as kissed someone before. Perhaps Bjorn’s interest would be good for her. “She is sixteen. It is time she learned something about sex.”

“Perhaps,” Erlendur responded, but he did not seem convinced. Horik knew that his first-born was extremely protective of his sister, and knew that the idea of Karena losing her virginity would likely not agree with him.

“How many women have you had, Erlendur?” Horik asked, glancing at his son.

Erlendur shrugged. “A few.”

Horik scoffed. “Girls and slaves hardly count.”

* * *

Karena walked around Kattegat with Bjorn, feeling giddy with delight. She was very pleased that Bjorn was paying her attention, and she wondered if he liked her as much as she liked him. He was certainly a handsome young man, and kind too. She wondered if perhaps her father had intended her for him – things certainly hadn’t progressed anywhere with Rollo, who had interests elsewhere.

“You are quite energetic today,” Bjorn commented as he led Karena through to the markets.

“I think I am happy that everyone is well,” Karena remarked – of course, she was excluding Jarl Borg, who was currently imprisoned. “Do you plan to stay here, with your father?”

“For as long as I can,” Bjorn replied with a shrug.

“I think I shall stay here as long as my father and brother do,” Karena said. That would be what her father wanted – he appeared to want her to attract male attention and find a husband. She saw no reason why Bjorn should not be that man – they were close in age, it would result in an alliance due to him being Ragnar’s son, and he clearly liked her.

“Karena.” She glanced over her shoulder to see Erlendur approaching them. He did not appear pleased, but she smiled nonetheless.

“Brother.”

“May we talk?” Erlendur asked, glancing meaningfully between Karena and Bjorn.

She bit her lip, but did not see how she could refuse. “Of course.”

Erlendur took her arm and led her aside, away from the hubbub of the markets. Once they were a decent distance away, Erlendur released her arm and turned to face her. He wore the same scowl that he had the other night at the feast, and Karena realised he did not approve of Bjorn in the least.

“I do not like him.”

“He is very kind,” Karena insisted.

“He only wants one thing from you,” Erlendur said curtly, folding his arms and sighing when his sister appeared confused. “Sex, Karena.”

“I wouldn’t mind if we did,” Karena said honestly. If she was to lose her virginity to someone, she would very much like it to be Bjorn. “He is attractive. You always say I’m reluctant to spread my legs for a man.”

Erlendur shook his head. “He would disgrace you.”

“How?” Karena demanded. “Many women are not maidens by the time they are married. I will continue seeing him if I choose to.”

Erlendur’s countenance darkened. “No, you will not.”

“Because what? You forbid it?” Karena’s tone became defiant, mocking. She usually listened to Erlendur, but his dislike of Bjorn seemed petty to her. “You are my brother. I don’t need to listen to you.”

“Father does not like it either,” Erlendur stated.

Karena frowned. “He has said nothing to me. I’m permitted to have friends.”

“Find some  _ female _ company,” Erlendur insisted, before turning on his heel and stalking off. Karena could not help but be confused – he had to be lying about their father not approving, because Horik wanted her to find a potential husband. But then, why would Erlendur have a problem with who his sister was interested in?

* * *

Ylva shifted slightly as her mind brought her from her rather enjoyable sleep. She yawned as she glanced around the room, noticing that the first streams of daylight had begun to pour through the cracks in the walls and door. She glanced over at Rollo who lay snoring beside her, sitting up and quietly getting to her feet. She was careful not to disturb him, but her movement on the bed caused him to stir slightly.

She splashed some cool water on her face before glancing at him when she saw him move in the corner of her eye. "You're awake."

"I am." He confirmed, leaning over the side of the bed to grab his shirt, pulling it over his head.

Ylva sat on the side of the bed, watching him as he got to his feet. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." He assured her, frowning when she pulled him back onto the bed. "What...?"

Ylva cut his words off by pressing her lips against his. He put his arms around her waist, drawing her closer to him as he ran a hand up her leg. He trailed his lips down her neck as she threaded her fingers through his hair, letting out a soft moan. She could feel him smirk against her neck, pleased with himself for drawing a reaction from her.

"I had fun last night." She told him, drawing his face away from her neck so she could look at him.

"As did I." He smiled, before kissing her again.

Ylva pulled away from the kiss, the question that had been at the forefront of her mind, slipped through her lips. "Why are you always so careful around women? You seem to not want their company much of the time."

"I prefer my own company usually." He explained to her, running his hands up and down her sides.

"Why?" He was a mystery to her and she intended to find out as much information as he would give, although she doubted it would be much from what she had heard about him. "You tell me little about yourself."

"I don't generally divulge personal information, to anyone." He told her, kissing across her collarbone in an attempt to distract her from asking most questions.

Upon noticing what he was doing, Ylva let out a heavy sigh before closing her eyes. If he would not tell her more about himself, she would at least allow herself to enjoy his company and the pleasures that it brought.

* * *

"Come in." Karena called to her door as she heard someone knock on it.

Ylva walked in upon hearing Karena’s voice, looking around the room. She was yet to formally meet the young girl, but she knew of her from the whispers around the town. "Karena, I believe?"

Karena looked up, confusion registering in her mind as she watched Ylva walk into her room. "Yes. Do I know you?"

Ylva shook her head, watching the younger girl with a smile on her face. "No, we have never met. My name is Ylva."

"You are one of Aslaug's women." Karena observed, knowing that she had seen her around Aslaug previously. "Why have you come to see me?"

Ylva sat down across from Karena, pulling her hair over one of her shoulders. Part of her was uncomfortable speaking to the younger girl about the matter, the other part thought she was being completely ridiculous. "I heard you are quite knowledgeable with herbs."

"Somewhat. I am no healer, just a princess dabbling in the art." Karena was quite knowledgeable when it came to herbs, in fact, but she was also modest and did not want to come across as arrogant when it came to her skill.

"I need a herb that will prevent pregnancy. Perhaps you can help me?" Ylva questioned, she had already spoken to a few of her friends, but none of them had anything that could help her. “Or do you know where I could get some?"

Karena shook her head. "You might be better asking one of the older women who no longer desire children, such as Siggy."

"Alright. Thank you, Karena." Ylva rose to her feet, moving over to the door with the intention of visiting the older woman.

"Who is it?" Karena’s question stopped her in her tracks and she turned to face the younger girl. "The man you are having sex with. I did not think you were married."

Ylva felt a stab of betrayal rush through her at the thought of sleeping with another man apart from her husband, but it was a fleeting moment. Her husband was dead and he would not want her to be living a lonely life. "My husband died. And Rollo."

Karena nodded, feeling a bit uncomfortable when she saw the older woman seemed a little taken aback. "Oh."

"He died seven years ago during a raid when I was pregnant with my son." She smiled slightly at the memory of her husband before she turned the conversation away from herself. "I've seen you with Bjorn. He likes you."

Karena sighed heavily. "My brother does not approve."

"Sometimes you have to trust yourself to make the right decisions. Your brother can't dictate your whole life." She pointed out, smiling at the younger girl. "You shouldn't let him."

"I don't 'let' him. Not all women can do as they please. Especially not the eldest daughter of a king." Karena scowled. Her position and title meant she was not free to choose the man she wished to marry.

Ylva raised an eyebrow. "If your father did not approve of you being around Bjorn, he would've made it very clear, from what I have heard."

"My brother said he did not approve."

"Perhaps you should speak to him yourself." Ylva told her before exiting the room.

* * *

“Erlendur!” Karena covered her eyes as she entered her brother’s room, realising that he was in the act of doing up his pants. He appeared unperturbed as she closed the door, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head.

“Sister.”

“Were you…with someone?” Karena inquired, and they both knew she meant sexually. She kept her back turned, waiting for her brother to finish dressing. She had sought him out intending to discuss Bjorn with him again, and the reasons her brother had to dislike or mistrust him.

“I was. Siggy.”

“Are you dressed?” Karena asked, fighting back her surprise. Siggy…the former earl’s widowed wife. She was about the same age as their father, why would she be having sex with Erlendur?

“I am,” Erlendur responded, watching as his younger sister slowly turned to face him.

“That must have been very pleasurable.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Pleasurable enough. Why do you ask?”

“I am curious.” Karena crossed over and sat in front of the hearth. She wanted to ask why Erlendur would sleep with Siggy. The older woman was certainly attractive, but quite a lot older than him. Yet she knew it wasn’t her business. “I haven’t been with a man, you know that. Often I wonder what it will be like for me, the first time.”

“It will hurt,” Erlendur assured her.

She glared over her shoulder at him. “You warn me away from Bjorn, yet you have sex with a woman old enough to be your mother.”

He frowned. “It is different.”

Karena lifted her chin stubbornly. “I will lose my maidenhead to who I choose.”

“You will not.” Erlendur strode over to her. “You will lose it to your husband.”

“Perhaps I will marry Bjorn.” Karena stared into the flames. She was tempted to go and see the Seer, wondering if he would have any answers for her. “Our father has spoken of an alliance through marriage before. Why do you so despise the idea?”

“I do not like him, nor do I trust him,” Erlendur said curtly, sitting beside his sister.

She glanced at him. “Then who would you have me marry?”

“Anyone but him,” Erlendur said with some hostility.

“I suppose I could marry Rollo, Ragnar’s brother,” Karena said, wondering if her brother would hear the sarcasm in her tone. Rollo was old enough to be her father, and showed her no more interest than he would a rock.

Erlendur nodded slowly. “That would work. I have no doubt Father would agree to it.”

Karena raised her eyebrows. “Rollo has no desire for me. Bjorn, apparently, does.”

“Desire does not matter,” Erlendur insisted, causing Karena to push herself to her feet in frustration. What was his problem? He would rather see her married to a much older man who did not care for her, rather than Bjorn, who had at least some affection for her?

“So you would rather I marry a man who would not enjoy making love to me?” She asked incredulously, before shaking her head. “I am going to talk to Father. Not about Rollo, about Bjorn.”

Erlendur stood as well. He was not a tall young man, but he still towered over his slight younger sister.

“I will come with you.”

“No.” Karena’s tone was firm, surprising even her.

Erlendur’s eyes narrowed. “That was not a suggestion.”

“If I want to speak with Father in private, I will do so.” Karena’s tone became icy, her hands balling into fists. She and Erlendur had never argued like this, and she could not understand why it was over Bjorn. Why did he refuse to see Bjorn was good for her? What was he not telling her? “You cannot tell me what I will and won’t do.”

Erlendur folded his arms. “Did I tell you to go or not to go to see Father?”

“No.” Karena licked her dry lips, feeling a surge of daring. “Because I wouldn’t listen even if you did.”

“You will learn your place as a woman.” Erlendur seized Karena by the shoulder and shoved her against the wall, causing her to yelp in shock. Her brother had never manhandled her in such a way before. “I urge you to remember that.”

She tilted her head to the side. “And what is my place, brother?”

“Your place is to birth children and raise them, and to be a loving wife,” Erlendur said. He was far closer to her than she was comfortable with. His breath was hot on her cheek, and she resisted the urge to squirm.

“So my place revolves around the man I marry.”

“Yes,” Erlendur replied.

“Let me go, Erlendur.” Karena pushed at him, but he smirked and kept her pressed against the wall. She was slightly worried now, wondering what exactly her brother was trying to prove. “Stop it.”

“I’m proving a point.” He squeezed her arms hard. “That you are weak.”

Karena winced. “I am not weak. I am not as strong as you, but that does not make me weak.”

Erlendur laughed, but it was a mirthless sound. Watching her brother now, Karena wondered when he had become like this. Was it Ari’s death that had changed him so, or her insistence to continue seeing Bjorn despite Erlendur’s dislike of him?

“You should go and find Siggy, or another woman to share your bed,” Karena said icily. “Perhaps they would agree with your ideals.”

Erlendur tossed her to the floor, before walking out of the room as his younger sister pushed herself shakily to her feet. Never had her brother pushed her around in such a manner, and it frightened her.


	6. Blessings and Curses

**Warnings: none**

Rollo moved his hands over the fire as he and Ylva sat beside each other. It was their first night away together and both were tired from the extensive amount of ground they had covered during the day. As they had watched the sun set, they had chosen a place to rest for the night.

Ylva glanced at his sideways as she went about making some food for the two of them. His brows were furrowed together and it was obvious that he was displeased about something. She turned her attention back to the stew that she had set about making, pushing her hair behind her ear and trying to avoid looking at her companion.

“I do not like this.” Rollo remarked as he watched her skin the rabbits they had caught during the day.

Ylva moved her attention from the rabbits to him. He didn’t like many things and she wished him to be more specific. “Do not like what?”

“Having to seek out Jarl Borg.” He clarified, taking a sip from the water skin in his hand.

“You could be doing it alone.” Ylva pointed out. She thought he would at least be glad for the company she was providing.

“It still would not please me.” He grumbled, glancing at her as she put their food over the fire. “I do not understand why my brother listens to everything Horik says.”

“Because he believes Horik is wise enough to be listened to.” She did not understand Ragnar’s reasoning for it, but she was not about to question it either. She didn’t wish to get more involved than she already was. Besides, she had joined Rollo as she had become fond of him, not because she cared for the politics surrounding their trip.

Ylva sat back as she left the stew to cook over the fire. She reached up to the braids in her hair and began to work her fingers through them to undo them. Rollo watched as she worked at her hair, his hand coming to rest on her thigh. She glanced at him before shaking her hair out, smiling as he pushed his out of her face, kissing her cheek.

“Are you well?” He questioned, shifting closer to her and the fire so he could warm his outstretched hands yet again. 

“I am, I just worry for my son. I do not usually leave him.” She sighed heavily. He was no longer a tiny child, yet she couldn’t help but feel like he was still a baby.0

“Who did you leave him with?” Rollo asked as she handed him a bowl of stew, the bowl warming his cold hands quickly.

“Siggy said she would take care of him while I am away.” Ylva ate the stew quickly, filling her empty stomach. She did not realise how hungry she had been until she had finished the bowl.

The two fell into a comfortable silence as they placed their bowls down after finishing the meal. Ylva tugged her coat tighter around her shoulders before lying down, resting her head in Rollo’s lap.

"Are you tired?" He watched as she made herself comfortable, stroking his fingers through her hair.

Ylva nodded, closing her eyes. "A little. Are you?”

“Slightly.” Rollo told her as he watched her close her eyes, a soft sigh passing her lips. "Why do you care for me?"

Ylva frowned at the sudden question. It was not something her mind had previously dwelled upon. “I do not know. Why do you ask?”

“I am not a good nor kind man. I have done terrible things in my life.” Rollo sighed heavily. He wished her to know the truth before he allowed her to make up her mind about him.

“What kind of things?” She sat up so she was able to face him, her hand resting on his shoulder.

“Killed innocents. Raped women. Betrayed my family.” He spoke softly as he glanced down at the hand that lightly squeezed his shoulder. “I would not blame you if such things would drive you away.” 

“It will not drive me away.” She assured him. She had known many men in her lives that had made mistakes far worse than his, and few of them had tried to make themselves a better person.

“Are you certain?” He watched as she shifted into his lap, kissing his cheek.

“I am still here, am I not?” She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck, happy for the comfort and warmth that he provided.

"Yes. But you have a child, and...I could never be a father figure." He sighed as he placed his arms around her waist, watching her intently.

“You have changed.” She nuzzled his neck, resting her face against it and closing her eyes. “And I do not wish to leave you.”

* * *

“Father.” Karena entered her father’s room, burning with determination. She thought the time was right to speak to Horik about the potential of a match with Bjorn, and her brother’s unacceptable behaviour. Horik turned to face his daughter with a slightly strained smile crossing his lips.

“Ah, Karena.”

“I wished to speak to you.” Karena took a seat, playing with her hands. “What do you think of Bjorn? Ragnar’s eldest son? Erlendur said that you did not approve of the fact that Bjorn and I have become close friends.”

Horik sighed heavily. “I do not care who you wish to be friends with.”

Karena leaned forward, eyes glittering meaningfully. “But if I wished to be more than friends?”

“It would be good for you,” Horik admitted, and she could hear some relief in his tone. Perhaps he had worried she would never become interested in a man, and would flit through life caring only for herbs and pretty dresses.

“What would be good?” Karena tilted her head to the side. “Having sex, or getting married?”

“Both,” Horik admitted, taking a seat across from his eldest daughter. “An alliance would be secured if you were to marry Bjorn. I will speak with Ragnar about the matter.”

Karena could not help but feel triumphant. Clearly, Erlendur had been lying when he had claimed their father disliked Bjorn. But then, why would he have such a problem with Karena wedding him – eldest son and heir of an earl, a boy not much older than her, handsome and clearly interested.

“Erlendur was violent with me the other night,” Karena murmured, “He pushed me against a wall and then to the ground.”

Horik scratched at his beard thoughtfully. “I will speak with him. Although, he taught you a valuable lesson.”

Karena frowned. “What is that?”

“That men are not always pleasant,” Horik stated, something his daughter was very much aware of. She might be naïve to some things, but she was not completely innocent. She knew female slaves were often raped, that men could at times become monsters.

“I shouldn’t learn that from my brother.”

* * *

The thing Karena always enjoyed the most about feasts was the music. Perhaps she had just had a few too many cups to drink, but she had forgotten all about Erlendur’s hostility and Ari’s death and was spinning amidst the candles, completely lost in her own world. She noticed Bjorn approaching her and laughed, tossing back her hair. It was astounding how much confidence ale could give her.

“Hello, Bjorn. Would you like to dance?”

“Alright,” Bjorn said, sliding his arms around her waist. Karena put her arms around his neck and swayed against him to the beat of the music. Back at her father’s court, she had danced often, but usually by herself.

“Do you enjoy this?” Karena inquired, pressing closer and swaying her hips a little more sensually, being rewarded by Bjorn’s groan of pleasure. She grinned, pleased with herself, only to sigh when she noticed Erlendur crossing over to them. Why did he always have to bother her when she was having fun?

“Karena, may we talk?”

She frowned. “I’m dancing.”

“Now, Karena.” Erlendur caught hold of her arm, lightly tugging her away from Bjorn. “It’s important.”

She glanced at Bjorn, who had clenched his jaw and did not look impressed with Erlendur’s sudden interruption. Karena allowed her brother to lead her aside into the shadows, but she hoped for his sake that it really was something important and not just an excuse to get her away from Bjorn.

“I do not like you being so close to him,” Erlendur hissed.

Karena pricked with irritation. “Father has given his blessing. If you’ll excuse me, I shall return to him.”

“No you will not.” Erlendur kept a firm hold on her arm. “You are not going back to him, he cannot be trusted. You are going to bed, before you do something you will come to regret.”

“Excuse me?” Karena was scandalised. Erlendur had always been protective of her, but this had reached absurd levels. “To bed? Are you planning on going to bed also?”

“I’m staying here,” Erlendur responded.

“Then no.” Karena drew away from him. Perhaps it was the ale giving her defiance, or perhaps she really had just had enough of Erlendur’s attempts to control her. “I won’t be sent to bed like a child, if you’re just going to stay here longer, and probably fuck Siggy as you seem to be so fond of doing.”

Erlendur clenched his hands into fists, making Karena smirk and lift her chin. He grabbed her wrist hard, making her wince in pain, and twisted. She tried to tug away from him, but he was a lot stronger than her.

“Do as you are told.”

“Why are you so intent on me not having happiness?” Karena asked, truly not understanding. She would have thought Erlendur might have liked to see her laughing and enjoying herself with Bjorn, but instead there was something like…it couldn’t possibly be jealousy. But she didn’t know what it was.

“You need to learn your place, sister,” he whispered in her ear.

“What will you do, brother?” Karena tilted her head back to look up at him. “Drag me out of the hall by my hair? I wish to return to Bjorn.”

Scowling, Erlendur released her wrist, pushing her away from him as he marched back over to the table. Karena took a moment to recover, before she crossed over to Bjorn, who was watching her with a slightly worried expression on his face.

“Are you alright?”

She licked her lips. “I…I’m fine. My brother, he just…I’m fine.”

“He will not harm you,” Bjorn promised fiercely, looping his arms around her waist and drawing her close. It was clear to Karena that he cared for her – but to what extent? Did he just want her in his bed, as Erlendur was constantly implying, or did he have feelings enough to marry her?

* * *

"Rollo." Ylva smiled as she wandered over to him. Their adventure to go see Jarl Borg had been a somewhat success, but she had felt uncomfortable in the man’s presence and was glad to be home. The celebration around them was wild and she could feel herself becoming weary.

"Ylva." Rollo glanced down at her, a cup of ale in his hand.

"May we talk?" She questioned, having been convinced by Siggy to approach him in regards to their blossoming relationship, although she was not sure if she could label it as such.

"Of course." Rollo nodded, following her as she led him outside.

"I wanted to talk to you about us." She explained, brushing her hair out of her face. "Are we just fucking for the sake of it, or does it mean something to you?"

"What does it mean to you?" He responded, unsure of how he felt about her and curious to know how she felt about him and what their arrangement meant to her.

Ylva sighed heavily, sitting down. "I'm still trying to decide."

"What do you want?" Rollo sat beside her.

"I don't know. It isn't just about what I want." She glanced at him, wanting him to talk to her rather than being so closed off emotionally.

"You don't know?" He raised an eyebrow, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched her. "Well, what do you want?" She responded, angling her body so she could talk to him.

He spoke softly; taking her hand in one of his own, slightly amused by how small her hand seemed to be in his own. "I'm not sure. I would like to get to know you better, I suppose."

She smiled as she watched him running his fingers over the palm of her hand, her skin soft in comparison to his. "I want the same."

"Good. So, how do we accomplish this?" Rollo questioned as he slipped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close against his chest.

She rested her head on his shoulder, letting out a content sigh. "How about we talk more when we spend time together?"

"That sounds like a wise idea. If your son permits it, of course." He chuckled, resting his chin on the top of her head.

Ylva could not herself from laughing at his statement. Rollo was far bigger than Jakob, although the boy still had many years of growth ahead of him before he reached his full size. "Are you scared of my son?"

"Of course." Rollo grinned, glancing around as the wind began to pick up and it began to get colder. "He is indeed a frightening child and he dislikes me."

"He will learn to like you in time." She assured him, resting her hand on his thigh as she shifted closer to him.

"What makes you so certain?" He asked, tightening his grip on her as the wind continued to pick up.

Ylva rose to her feet, offering him her hand which he took before she began to lead him back to her house. It was beginning to get too cold for them to continue to be out. "Because I know my son."

She continued to lead him to her house, happy to be sheltered from the wind as they moved over the threshold and shut the door. Ylva began to un-braid her hair, aware of Rollo’s gaze following her movements. He moved behind her, putting his arms around her waist and drawing her close, causing her to rest her head back against his shoulder as he pressed his face to the crook of her neck.

“I should leave soon.” He murmured, beginning to pull away from her.

Ylva shook her head, leading them to her room. “Stay the night.”

“Alright, if you’re sure.”

“Of course I am.”


	7. Flesh and Blood

**Warnings: incestuous themes**

Karena had never seen a blood eagle before, and she wasn’t entirely certain that she wanted to. Jarl Borg had been civil to her during the time he had held her prisoner, and she didn’t think she could stomach what was rumoured to be a very bloody and violent death. Nonetheless, she stood resolute beside her brother and father. Ragnar’s knife glimmered in the firelight before he set to work.

Karena felt dizzy, and glanced across to see that Torvi, Borg’s pregnant wife, had fainted. She felt that she might faint too. Her father seemed to notice her distress as she put her hands over her mouth, for he gave Erlendur a meaningful look.

“Erlendur, take your sister to her room.”

“Alright.” He caught her arm gently. “Come on.”

Ylva stood beside Rollo as she watched Ragnar slicing into the body in front of him. Every now and then Rollo would glance to the woman at his side, wondering how she was feeling about the gore of it all, but she seemed to not be flinching or looking away. Ragnar continued with his work, stepping back when he was finally finished, blood dripping from Jarl Borg’s body and staining the ground beneath his feet.

Ylva looked around as people began to move away from the site, turning and making a departure herself. Rollo noticed her move off, promptly following her. She raked her hair back as she made her way to her house, walking into the small front room, letting out a deep breath as her stomach churned over and over. She was not sure what had made her feel so unwell, but she knew it wasn’t the gruesome way that Jarl Borg had been executed. She had seen worse during raids.

Rollo placed his hand on her lower back as he moved behind her, prompting her to turn and face him. "Ylva? Are you alright?"

"I do not feel very well." She admitted, resting her head upon his shoulder as his arms circled around her waist.

"How do you feel unwell?" He asked, rubbing her back in a comforting gesture as she closed her eyes.

"I feel sickly.” She sighed heavily, pulling away from him and moving to lie down on her bed. Her stomach was still churning uncomfortably, it had been all day. She didn’t understand why she felt so unwell all of the sudden. Nothing much in her life had changed recently to cause it, and she did not feel conventionally sick. "Perhaps I need rest."

"Like you are going to vomit?" Rollo sat on the edge of the bed, stroking her hair as he watched her. "It's most likely because of Jarl Borg's gruesome death."

"I do not think so. I have felt unwell for most of the day." She told him, reaching out and lacing her fingers with his as she let out a long and loud yawn, prompting a small smile to form on his face. "I'll try and figure out why in the morning."

Rollo frowned, finding it unusual that she felt so unwell. "Are you with child?"

Ylva shook her head. It was different to the feeling of being pregnant. She remembered that quite well from when she had been pregnant with Jakob. "No."

Rollo watched as she rolled onto her back to face him. "Are you certain?"

"Would it upset you if I was?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow and watching him carefully to gauge his reaction.

"I do not know. Would you want to be?" He replied, not sure how to feel in regards to the thought of her being pregnant. He didn’t hate children, he just didn’t see himself as a fit role model for a child.

"Perhaps." Ylva sighed, glancing down at her stomach. She didn’t know how she would feel having another child, but a part of her told her that she would be happy if she were to have another one. “Jakob would do well with a brother or sister."

"I think it would be good for him." Rollo agreed, stretching out on the bed beside her, watching as she curled up against him.

Ylva glanced up at him, pushing his hair from his face as she kissed his cheek. "Would you want a child?"

Rollo glanced up at the ceiling. He was in two minds about having a child. A part of him wanted to and the other part didn’t think it to be an overly good idea. "I am not sure whether I would be a good father."

"You would." She assured him, resting her head on his chest and wrapping the blankets around the two of them.

Rollo nodded, running his fingers through her hair as he watched her. "I hope so. I was a good uncle to Bjorn, I think."

"You would be a good father, I have no doubt in my mind." She smiled, running her fingers over his cheek in a tender gesture. "Stay with me tonight."

"Alright, if you insist." He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him as she closed her eyes, beginning to drift to sleep.

* * *

“You can go back if you’d like,” Karena said softly as they reached her room. She knew her brother was not as averse to gore as she was. Her mother would likely be disappointed. Karena would never be a shield-maiden, but she was beginning to suspect that she would never be strong either.

“I’m fine here.” Erlendur closed the door, watching as his younger sister sat down on the bed.

“I didn’t like seeing that,” she admitted.

“Not everyone can watch such things,” her brother responded. She had expected him to call her weak, or a little girl. But it seemed that Erlendur had no taunts for her tonight. She played with her hands, fidgeting restlessly.

“I am not brave,” she murmured.

Erlendur caught his sister’s hands, causing her to glance at him in mild surprise. Before she knew what was happening, he was kissing her. Not the sort of chaste peck on the lips that their family shared from time to time – Erlendur had wound a hand into Karena’s dark curls and pressed close to her. She froze in shock, completely unsure how to react. Erlendur deepened the kiss, but released his younger sister and drew away when she remained still and unresponsive.

“Erlendur…what are you doing?” Karena asked, her voice barely above a shocked whisper. “Why did you do that?”

“I wanted to,” Erlendur confessed. He had been tormented by his lust for his sister for quite some time, and thought perhaps kissing her would do…something. But instead, feeling her soft lips against his, it only made it worse.

“How do you feel about me really?” Karena inquired. Her green eyes were wide and alarmed, and Erlendur could tell that his actions had frightened her.

He shrugged. “You are my sister.”

“The way you kissed me was not as a brother would kiss his sister,” Karena replied, her voice shaking. She rubbed her arms as if cold, but Erlendur did not think that was what bothered her. “Please, Erlendur. Tell me the truth. Do you just see me as a sister and nothing more?”

“You should rest.” Erlendur clambered to his feet. How was he meant to tell the truth now, when he saw how shocked – and perhaps even repulsed – Karena was? Whatever desires he had for her, she clearly did not reciprocate them.

“You’re scaring me.” Karena’s eyes welled with tears. “Just tell me the truth. Do you have…sexual feelings towards me?”

Erlendur averted his eyes. “Somewhat.”

“Somewhat? What does that mean?” Karena persisted, before she bit her lip. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

“Yes,” Erlendur replied bluntly, seeing no point in denying it. Karena was already shaken by the fact that he had kissed her, so he may as well admit the whole truth. His younger sister tugged her knees to her chest, clearly upset by the revelation. He turned and left her, fuming about Bjorn and their blood relation and the fact that she would never return what he felt for her.

* * *

Karena sat by the shore and watched the waves gently lap over the sand. She had been very shaken by Erlendur kissing her, and his confession of desire for her. It had disturbed her possibly more than Jarl Borg’s death. He was her  _ brother _ , he shouldn’t be feeling such things for her at all. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she jumped when Bjorn sat beside her. She hadn’t even heard him coming.

“Something is troubling you,” Bjorn noted.

“Something happened the night Jarl Borg was blood eagled,” Karena said, although she was not sure how much to disclose. Could she trust Bjorn? Was it wise for her to tell him what Erlendur had done, what he’d said? “My brother, he…it’s difficult to explain.”

Bjorn slipped an arm around her shoulders, and Karena found the confidence she needed to tell him. Taking a deep breath, she prayed he would not judge her for what she was about to say.

“He kissed me. Not in the way a brother kisses their sister. I questioned him and he said…he said that he wanted to have sex with me.”

She wiped her eyes, unable to help the tears that had suddenly sprang into them. All she wanted was for her big brother to be just that, but she knew she would be second-guessing everything now that she was aware of his incestuous lust for her. It frightened her, and she didn’t know how she could make his feelings go away.

“I don’t understand,” Karena whispered. “I don’t know what I did to make him feel that way about me.”

“You are quite beautiful,” Bjorn pointed out.

She stared hard at him, tears running down her cheeks. “So it is my fault for being ‘quite beautiful’ that he has those feelings?”

“It isn’t your fault,” he insisted.

“I don’t know. I just don’t know what to do.” Karena rested her chin against her knees. “Should I speak to him?”

Bjorn shrugged his broad shoulders. “Perhaps you should leave it.”

“How can I leave it?” Karena demanded. She did not know how she could just pretend like nothing ever happened, as though her brother had never kissed her and had never confessed to harbouring unwelcome desire for her. “I just want to talk to him and see what he has to say about it.”

She took a deep breath and looked out over the water, forcing herself to think on things other than Erlendur. Bjorn was right here beside her, and he was a much nicer thing to think about. She glanced at him, taking in his fair colouring and strong features.

“Father says we might marry, you and I.”

He smiled. “I would like that.”

“You…you would?” Karena was slightly astonished. She had never really thought to ask Bjorn’s opinion on the matter, too concerned on the fact that it was what their fathers wanted. Now she wished she had consulted him sooner, and felt pleasantly flattered by his response.

“Yes, wouldn’t you?”

“I just didn’t know how you felt about him,” Karena admitted, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “After all, we have not known each other a long time.”

“I would like to get to know you better,” Bjorn stated, and the earnestness in his voice stirred something inside Karena. Before she even thought, she boldly leaned across and kissed him. For a single moment she feared rejection, but Bjorn kissed back passionately, tugging her into his lap and running a hand through her curls.

Karena trailed her lips down his neck, a little uncertain as to what she was doing. She had never done this with a boy before, but judging by Bjorn’s groan of pleasure, she was doing something right. Bjorn’s hand skimmed up her sides before he groped at her breasts, causing her to moan and squirm around a little in his lap.

“You are so beautiful,” Bjorn said huskily, causing Karena to flush bright red and tuck her hair behind her ear. “Do I embarrass you?”

“No, it’s just…” She trailed off momentarily. “No one’s ever said that to me.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Bjorn said, inspecting her closely. She was secretly thrilled at his words, pleased that he found her to be beautiful. He was everything she could have ever wanted in a future husband.

“Well, my family,” Karena admitted. “But they don’t count.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Warnings: incestuous themes**

Ylva raked a hand through her hair as she placed the spoon on the table, wandering over to the door when she heard a soft knock. She swung it open, looking at the dark haired woman who stood in front of her. She was old, but not so old that she could not move freely. Although, she did have a slight limp from a battle from many years ago. "Aunt Helena."

"Ylva." Helena greeted her niece, smiling as she followed her into the house. "Where is your son?"

"He is with Rollo." Ylva answered her as she began to spoon breakfast onto plates. "Are you hungry?"

"I am." Helena answered, sitting down at the table and placing her bag beside her. Ylva placed a plate in front of her before sitting across from her. "Thank you. What is happening with you and Rollo?"

Ylva frowned at the question, unsure as to what she meant. "What do you mean?"

Helena took a bite of her food, chewing it thoughtfully before answering. "Exactly that."

"He is a good friend. He's been helping me with Jakob." Ylva told her, beginning to eat her own plate of food.

Helena raised an eyebrow, not believing that the two were merely just friends. "Just a friend? Nothing more?"

Ylva let out a heavy sigh, putting her fork down. "Why does it matter?"

"Because I do not wish to see you become a whore." Helena explained to her, having heard the rumours that had begun circulating.

Ylva finished her food, pushing her hair out of her face. "I am not going to stop seeing Rollo because me doing so displeases you."

"It's not about displeasing me. Do you think your son should grow up with a whore for a mother?" Helena questioned her, watching as she began to clear away their plates.

"The only person who has called me a whore is you." Ylva snapped at her. "Perhaps I will marry him. He is good with Jakob."

"Does he seek marriage? Or just pleasure?" Her aunt inquired, leaning back in her chair and watching as Ylva set about cleaning.

Ylva paused for a moment before going back to drying the dishes she had washed. "Both."

Helena frowned, not believing that Ylva and Rollo had spoken about such matters. "And you have spoken of marriage with him?"

"We have spoken of the subject, though not in great depth." She answered her aunt, turning to face her, leaning against the bench.

Helena smirked, getting to her feet. "Ah. So you do not know."

"If you are here to insult me, you can leave." Ylva told her, growing impatient with the way that he aunt was acting.

Helena lifted her chin, crossing her arms over her chest. "I am here to see how Jakob is, however he is with that traitor."

Ylva clenched her fists at her side, her anger beginning to boil over. "Jakob is fine. You can see him later. But for now… Get out."

Helena took that as a good time to leave, grabbing her bag and walking out of the house. Ylva leant heavily against the bench, raking a hand through her hair and mulling over what her aunt had said. As much as she knew that she was right about some things, she didn’t want to admit that to herself. She knew about Rollo’s past, yet was confident that he had more than redeemed himself.

Ylva glanced up as she heard the door swing open, watching as Rollo walked in with a frown on his face, with Jakob bounding in close behind him. "You're back."

Rollo raised an eyebrow as Jakob grabbed a roll of bread from the table, shoving it into his mouth. "Who was that old bag?"

Jakob glanced at him, answering in between mouthfuls of food. "Aunt Helena."

"She seems like a charming woman..." Rollo trailed off, prompting Ylva to laugh and almost forget about the previous conversation she had had with her aunt.

* * *

Karena was sorting through her dresses, picking one out and smoothing it out across the bed. She was searching for something to wear that was pretty, that she might look nice in so as to impress Bjorn. It was only when she glanced over her shoulder that she saw Erlendur leaning in the doorway, and she jumped, eyes widening.

“Sister,” he remarked.

“Do you regret what you said and did the other night?” Karena demanded. Perhaps it had just been that particular moment, and Erlendur had changed his mind about her now. He frowned and folded his arms.

“Why does it matter?”

“Because you are my brother, not my lover,” Karena pointed out.

“I could be both,” Erlendur said boldly, striding towards her.

“Don’t.” Karena shrank away from him. “You don’t want to have sex with me.”

“Yes, I do,” he stated, and she wondered what their father would think if he heard Erlendur’s bold claims, heard of his incestuous desire for Karena.

“I am marrying Bjorn.” Karena’s voice was firm. Now that the idea had popped up, she was reluctant to let it go. Bjorn was the perfect gentleman, unlike her elder brother. She smiled a little at the memory of their earlier encounter. “We kissed earlier.”

“Was it pleasurable?” Erlendur asked, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded fervently. “Very.”

“He is a boy.” Erlendur scoffed, and Karena could not help but narrow her eyes. Her brother was barely older than Bjorn, although it did not show. Bjorn was well over six feet tall and muscular. Karena slyly wondered what he looked like shirtless.

“A boy who knows where to put his hands,” she said with some relish.

“I could please you more than he could,” Erlendur insisted.

She frowned. “How?”

“Let me show you.” He took a step towards her, but she flinched away. The last thing she wanted was more contact with him of an incestuous nature.

“Don’t.”

His eyes raked up and down her slender form. “What do you see in him?”

“He is handsome, kind.” Karena tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling girlish excitement as she talked about Bjorn. “He compliments me and thinks I am beautiful.”

Erlendur scoffed derisively. “You will spread your legs and he will leave you.”

“Not if I marry him.” Her tone became firm. She resented the fact that Erlendur seemed to think she was easy, that she would have sex with Bjorn for no more reason than pure pleasure. Although it was a tempting prospect, Karena knew it to be unwise. “I don’t spread my legs as easily as you seem to think.”

* * *

Ylva spun out of the way as Rollo lunged at her yet again. She had convinced him to train with her, and was enjoying their sparring match. Although he was vastly stronger than her, she managed to remain faster than he was. A groan escaped her lips as he knocked her feet from under her, watching as she rolled to her feet, a grin upon her lips. He smirked before charging at her, managing to clip her side as she tried to move, the two of them tumbling to the ground.

Ylva swung out with her sword, the tip of it slicing through the skin on his forearm as he knocked the sword from her hand. She struggled for a moment as he tied her down with his weight. She managed to get her leg free and dug her knee into his side. Rollo groaned before shifting, managing to sit on her legs, watching as she struggled beneath him yet again. She narrowed her eyes before slamming her head into his, watching as he reeled back, using that to her advantage as she pushed him off of her, scrambling to her feet.

"We're done for today." Rollo got to his feet as well, shaking his head due to the slight disorientation. He glanced at Ylva, watching as she rubbed blood from her nose. "How is your nose?"

Ylva shrugged. "Just a bit of blood. How is your arm?"

Rollo glanced down at it before looking back at her. "It's fine."

“We should clean up.” Ylva told him, heading towards her house. “You coming?”

“Do you want me to?” He asked, raising and eyebrow as he tugged his shirt off, wiping the sweat from his face.

“Of course.” She grinning, running her eyes up and down his bare chest, and admiring him.

Rollo followed her into her house, watching as she moved over to a bowl of water, washing her face and the ends of her hair where dirt and dust had collected. She glanced at him when she was done, well aware of his eyes on her the whole time. He grinned at her before moving over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close against him. Ylva ran her hands down his chest, kissing his cheek.

“We should clean that cut on your arm. We don’t want it to get infected.” She told him.

“Alright.” He nodded before grabbing a cloth, wiping the small amount of blood from her face that she had missed. “Are you sure your nose is alright?”

“It’s fine.” She stated, pushing him down into one of the chairs and grabbing a clean cloth, dampening it and wiping his arm. “It isn’t deep.”

“Good. It will heal quickly.” He watched as she continued to clean it before wrapping a small piece of cloth around it to cover it and prevent dirt getting in. “Thank you.”

Ylva smiled, kissing his cheek again and getting to her feet, setting about preparing a meal for them.

* * *

Horik swept into Ragnar’s room with a single-minded determination. He may have conflicting opinions on the man, but the truth remained that it would be prudent to join their families through marriage. Ragnar had a strong warrior son, and Horik had a beautiful daughter. It made sense, especially if their alliance was to be a long-standing one. Ragnar looked up at his arrival, eyebrows raised.

“May we speak?” Horik inquired.

Ragnar gestured for the king to sit. “Of course.”

“Your eldest son Bjorn is a fine young man,” Horik remarked as he seated himself, pouring himself some ale from the jug. “You must be very proud. My daughter is quite fascinated with him.”

“I have noticed,” Ragnar stated. Of course he had – there were few who could miss the obvious attraction and flirtation between Bjorn and Karena.

“How does he feel about her?” Horik asked, although he thought he already knew. Judging by Bjorn’s looks in Karena’s direction, he found her to be pretty at the very least.

“I can see he has taken a liking to her,” Ragnar admitted.

Horik nodded slowly. “I think they should be married. What do you say?”

“It is something I will consider.” Ragnar seemed reluctant to give a straight answer, causing Horik to frown. He had no wish to wait around for such a matter, as he considered it to be a pressing one.

“I think they would do well to marry soon, before we raid again.” Horik knew that he was pushing, but he was also the king. Ragnar was an earl, but he had once been no more than a farmer. “It would be a smart match, particularly for an alliance.”

Ragnar’s eyes flicked across to him. “I need time to consider it.”

“I understand that, but they care for each other already,” Horik focused on the positives of such an arranged marriage. “She will make him a good wife. She will be wanting to know the result of this conversation. Would you like me to tell her no?”

Ragnar assessed him. “What will I gain from this?”

“You will gain a daughter-in-law from a powerful family, grandchildren of royal blood.” Horik ticked off on his fingers as Ragnar leaned back. “An alliance with my family. I do not offer my eldest daughter lightly, Ragnar.”

“I am aware,” Ragnar said.

“I had thought of Rollo, before Bjorn came to Kattegat,” Horik admitted. “But she would have been wasted on him. Your brother is older even than you, and she is still a pretty little thing in her youth.”

“Alright,” Ragnar offered Horik a fleeting smile. “It could prove to be an advantage to us both.”

Horik nodded, satisfied. “She will be delighted to hear it. She greatly admires Bjorn.”


	9. Intimacy

**Warnings: sex scene**

"You're getting slow." Ylva commented as she spun out of Rollo’s reach, managing to kick him in the leg.

He regained himself before turning to face her again. "I'm still a lot stronger than you."

"But a lot slower." She grinned, however, she was too slow as he lunged at her, his sword clattering to the ground as he grabbed her around the waist, hauling her over his shoulder.

He smirked as she struggled against him, although her attempts were futile. "Poor Ylva."

She rolled her eyes, yelping as he grabbed their things in his other hand and began to walk back towards her house, with Rollo making sure that he walked through the down.

"Put me down." She snapped at him, tugging at his hair as onlookers stared at them. Some in confusion, while others seemed amused.

Rollo winced as she pulled at his hair again as he strode into the house. "Or what?"

"And what will you do now?" She questioned as she continued to struggle against him, pleased when he set her down on her feet.

He smirked at her, his hands still resting upon her waist as he looked down at her. "Did I embarrass you?"

"No." She answered, but her cheeks were tinged pink and he could tell that she was somewhat embarrassed by what had just occurred.

She removed herself from his grip, tugging her shirt off and pushing her pants off. Both were covered in dirt and sweat and she didn’t like the feel of them sticking to her skin. Rollo watched her closely, admiring the woman before him. She had an athletic figure due to her years of training to be a warrior, but she still had the soft curves that most women had. She turned her back to him as she put her dirty clothes in a bucket, allowing him a nice view of her behind as she began to un-braid her hair.

He stepped towards her, his hands moving to rest on her hips again as he leant in close to her, whispering into her ear. "Are you undressing for me? Because if so, by all means, keep going."

"Perhaps I was, perhaps I wasn’t. You seemed to have enjoyed it anyway." She leant back against, feeling the fabric of his shirt brushing against her back as he kissed along her neck.

She spun around in his arms, pressing her lips to his as her arms slid up his arms and around his neck, pulling him closer to her. His hands moved from her hips to caress along her side, before moving up to cup her breasts. As his hands moved, so did his lips as they kissed along her neck, leaving her a moaning mess in his hands.

"You smell." She commented, breaking the haze between them as he drew his mouth away from her neck to look at her.

"So do you." He retorted, prompting her to laugh. "Shall we wash?"

"Of course." She smiled before moving to make a bath.

Once the water was boiled and she had poured it into the tub she let Rollo climb in first before getting in herself. She leant back against him, happily sitting in his lap as the hot water relieved the stress in her muscles, allowing them to relax after their day of training.

"How is Jakob?" Rollo questioned, breaking the silence that had befallen them.

"He is well." Ylva replied, closing her eyes and leaning her head back on his shoulder.

Rollo kissed her cheek, resting one of his hands on her stomach. "Does he wish to learn to use a sword someday?"

"He does." She nodded, humming in content as he traced patterns on her stomach.

Rollo began to kiss along her neck in between his words, smirking as she moaned. "Did you wish me to train him?"

"I would ask no other." She told him, running her fingers down the side of his cheek as she opened her eyes to look at him.

"Because I am the best, of course." He grinned, winking at her.

* * *

Erlendur and Karena sat by the fire and awaited their father’s return, Karena more anxiously than her elder brother. It was no secret that he had gone to discuss a marriage to Bjorn with Ragnar, and she found herself awaiting the verdict. Seeking to calm her nerves, she glanced at her brother, who was in possession of the ale jug. He was not looking at all pleased, a permanent scowl across his features.

“Can I have some more?” She gestured to the jug that sat on the table in front of her brother.

Erlendur held it out of her reach. “No. I doubt Father would be happy if I let you drink more.”

Karena frowned. They drank at feasts all the time, why was it so different now? Before she could challenge her brother, the door opened and Horik walked in. Karena practically sprinted over to her father, hands clasped and green eyes wide with hope. He offered his daughter a small smile.

“It seems you are to be married, Karena.”

“Really?” Karena could not disguise how thrilled she was. She had been a little worried that Ragnar would not agree, but now her dreams had come to fruition. She knew that Bjorn would be a good husband to her.

Horik turned his attention upon his son. “Erlendur, you must witness the consummation as your mother will not be able to attend the ceremony.”

Karena flushed. She had almost forgotten about that. Noble and royal families were required to have two witnesses from each family to ensure the consummation had occurred. It was embarrassing, certainly, but necessary for high-ranking families such as Horik’s and Ragnar’s. The thought of Erlendur being there instead of her mother made her feel a bit nauseous.

“Why? I do not see a need for it.” Erlendur was unimpressed.

“It seems that Erlendur is unable to do anything without first complaining, Father,” Karena said lightly, shooting a glare at her older brother. “I honestly don’t care what you wish to do. It’s  _ my _ wedding, it isn’t about you.”

Horik frowned. Erlendur and Karena never used to bicker so, but since Ari’s death, their dynamic seemed to have changed immensely.

“Children.”

“All he has done is complain about Bjorn,” Karena protested. Ever since she and Ragnar’s eldest son had begun flirting, Erlendur had expressed nothing but disapproval. Now that they were to marry, Erlendur’s complaints still had not stopped.

“You are acting like a spoilt brat, sister,” Erlendur said mockingly, his eyes gleaming even as Karena shoved him angrily. It was as though her irritation served to amuse him. In truth, she did not understand his aversion to her marriage to Bjorn – although a tiny part of her told her that he may be slightly jealous, considering he had revealed that he had incestuous feelings for her.

Horik threw up his hands and walked out of the room, clearly despairing of the fact that his children were fighting over something like a marriage. Karena walked over and examined the jug. She wondered what would happen if she were to drink all of it. Would it make her dizzy or sick?

“Why don’t you want me to be happy, brother?” she asked. “Why do you so hate the thought of me marrying him?”

Erlendur shrugged his shoulders, sitting back down in front of the fire. “Marry him, for all I care.”

“Then why object?” Karena cautiously filled her cup with wine. She felt that she needed more and more of it in his presence. “Why try to stop it if you don’t care?”

“I do not trust him,” Erlendur responded, although Karena knew what that meant. He didn’t trust Bjorn with her.

“Ari would have been pleased for me,” she murmured, watching the flames dance as she drained her cup. It tasted bitter and made her wince, but she drank it anyway. “Ari would have given his blessing.”

Erlendur glanced over his shoulder at her. “Ari was weak.”

“And every day, I wish it was you who had been slain in battle and not him.” Karena filled her cup up again. Perhaps the alcohol was making her more daring, for it was something she did not think she would have dared to say sober, but something that had been on her mind for quite some time.

Seeing that his sister was becoming more and more intoxicated, Erlendur pushed himself to his feet, crossing over to Karena. She shrank away from him, but he simply removed the cup from her hand and set it on the table.

“The gods do not seem to care what we wish for,” Erlendur said bluntly.

* * *

Karena thought her wedding dress was extremely beautiful, but that it didn’t flatter her at all. The neck dipped low, in a fashion that would have showed cleavage on a curvier woman, but she felt that it emphasised the fact she had small breasts. With the ceremony over, she was attempting to distract herself from the fact that she and Bjorn would soon have to consummate their marriage. She absent-mindedly traced patterns on her new husband’s wrist, glancing at him.

“Are you nervous?”

“A little,” Bjorn admitted.

“Have you been with a woman before?” Karena inquired. She did not judge men who had – Bjorn was a handsome young man, it made sense that he had likely bedded other women before. Yet she was astounded when he shook his head.

“No.”

“Friends, we have come here tonight to see my daughter and Ragnar’s son wed, and they have been.” Horik clambered to his feet, a drink in hand. His loud voice ensured that silence fell across the hall. “Now, it is time for them to be bedded.”

Bjorn reached across to squeeze Karena’s hand reassuringly. This was the part that they were not looking forward to. Although sex was meant to be enjoyable, the first time was always awful, especially when witnesses were there. The act would no doubt be awkward, and it frightened Karena a little.

She clambered to her feet and followed him from the hall, attempting to ignore the fact that her hand was shaking in his. When they reached the bedchamber, she was relieved that there was a curtain separating the bed from the four chairs that had been assembled for the witnesses. It was sheer, and they would be able to get the general gist of what was going on, but it allowed Karena and Bjorn a small element of privacy.

Karena could not help but feel self-conscious, very aware of the others watching them. Bjorn gently gripped her chin, turning her face so that she was focusing only on him. He pressed his lips to hers, kissing her softly. After a few moments, Karena stopped thinking about anything except the young man she was with, kissing back passionately. Her hands roamed tentatively down his muscular chest, and she was struck by her need to see him shirtless.

Her small hands tugged at the fabric, and Bjorn lifted his arms and pulled his shirt over his head. Karena marvelled at his muscular form, although she was a little afraid – Bjorn was so much bigger than her, and she wondered if that would complicate matters. She took a deep breath as Bjorn’s lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle bites as he unlaced the front of her dress.

When the dress loosened around her, Karena let it slide down her shoulders so that it clung to the subtle curves of her breasts. Bjorn’s eyes were drawn there, and then his hands too, groping at her. His hands were shaking slightly, as if he was restraining himself. Karena turned and crawled onto the bed, lying down on her back and reaching for the hem of her dress. Bjorn slid it up her legs, the fabric tickling her bare skin. He kissed across her bare shoulder as she undid his pants with fumbling fingers.

Karena spread her legs apart, feeling awkward and exposed. Bjorn loomed over her, his blue eyes a little concerned. She licked her lips and offered him a brief nod. The wedding night was no place for heated kisses and pleasurable touches. They were expected to get the deed done with, that they both understood. Bjorn positioned himself between her legs, before surging forward and pushing into her.

It hurt. Karena whimpered and buried her face in his shoulder. The stinging pain was over in a moment, but there was still an ache between her legs, a dull throbbing. Bjorn remained still above her, kissing her neck gently to try and get her to relax. Karena let her head fall back and took a deep breath, her legs shifting to slide around Bjorn’s waist as he started to thrust slowly.

Bjorn’s movements made Karena accustomed to the feeling of having him inside her, and despite the discomfort, she found that she didn’t mind it so much. He further loosened the laces of her dress, tugging it down to access her breasts. His lips trailed over them, before he started to tease her nipples with his tongue. Karena gave a little gasp of pleasure, writhing around beneath him.

Bjorn’s movements became faster, the bed creaking beneath them. Karena could not say she was enjoying herself immensely, but every now and then, Bjorn’s attentions managed to coax a soft moan or a little gasp from her. He nudged her legs further apart, the new angle meaning he could move deeper inside her.

Karena clutched at his shoulders as his thrusts became harder and less controlled. His groans of pleasure told her that he was close to finishing – and after a few moments, he did, climaxing with a loud grunt. Karena was panting, her entire body covered in a sheen of sweat as Bjorn withdrew from her.

Erlendur was the first to get to his feet and walk out of the room. Ragnar instead approached the bed, batting aside the curtain to examine the sheets. Karena flushed and covered her breasts, before following his gaze and noticing a few small spots of blood on the bed. Evidence that she had been a virgin. Ragnar glanced at Horik, raising his eyebrows.

“There is blood. She was a virgin. Are you satisfied, King Horik?”

“I am indeed.” Horik’s gaze swept between his mortified eldest daughter and her new husband, before he and Ragnar followed Lagertha from the bedchamber, leaving Bjorn and Karena alone.

Bjorn stretched himself out, and Karena’s eyes swept over his body briefly. He was much bigger than her, but he had been gentle with her, and there hadn’t been as much pain as she had been dreading. She gathered her dress around her, huddling in a ball on her side, yawning.

“Karena? Are you alright?” Bjorn sounded a bit worried.

She nodded. “Sleepy.”

Bjorn pressed close to her, putting an arm around her waist. Karena could not help but smile, and she knew that she was fortunate – her husband was a kind, good man who cared for her and would look after her.

“Did you enjoy that?” he asked.

Karena saw no need to lie. “I think it would have been more enjoyable had my father and brother not been watching.”

Bjorn pressed a kiss to the top of her head, stroking back her curls. “I think it will be more so next time.”


	10. Bliss

**Warnings: sex scene**

Jakob sat watching Rollo as he ate the breakfast his mother had placed in front of him near an hour ago. Rollo had already begun drinking, despite how early it was in the day. This both intrigued and confused Jakob. He was too young to remember his father, and did not know whether it was customary for men to begin to drink mead so early in the morning. Although he had noticed that Rollo was fond of drinking.

"What?" Rollo finally broke the silence that had captured the two of them. He did not understand why the child was watching him.

"You drink too much." Jakob remarked bluntly. He was not one to beat around the bush. From a young age his mother had told him to speak what was on his mind, if it was the time and place.

Rollo frowned. "I do not."

"Yes you do." Jakob argued, his brows furrowing at the thought that Rollo was arguing with him. It was clearly the truth.

Rollo raised an eyebrow. Clearly the child was determined to prove that he was right. Not that he knew much regarding the matter. "You're what, six?"

"Nearly eight." Jakob puffed his chest out, attempting to make himself look older than he was. He didn’t appreciate Rollo thinking he was younger than he was.

"I see." Rollo nodded slowly.

Jakob kept eating, words tumbling from his mouth in between bites. "I do not know what mother sees in you, but you make her happy."

"You're cheeky." Rollo had grown fond of Jakob, but he was also still adjusting to the child. "I'm glad I make her happy though."

"I like you more than I used to." Jakob told him as he finished his food.

The words intrigued Rollo as he finished his mead, opting not to drink another. He knew Ylva was not fond of his habit. "Why is that?"

"Because you have made her happy." Jakob shrugged, his tone suggestion that it should’ve be more than obvious to Rollo.

The two halted their conversation as Ylva walked back into the room. She had been performing her morning duties and had left the two to entertain themselves. Jakob bid her a hello before walking back into his room, leaving Ylva and Rollo alone in the small kitchen. He watched her as she began to clean the dishes from their morning meal.

"Hello." Rollo smiled, watching her as she continued to clean, brushing her hair from her face. “Are you well?”

“Yes, are you?” She responded to him, walking over after drying her hands, sitting in his lap. Rollo kissed her cheek before stretching out, amusement crossing his features as she raked her eyes over him. "Something amusing?"

Rollo shook his head, but the grin did not leave his face. "No."

* * *

Karena woke the next morning feeling sore but satisfied. Last night’s rigorous activity had not been entirely pleasant for her, but she was determined to try again. As her husband stirred beside her, she pushed herself to her feet. It was before dawn and no one in the village would be stirring after the previous night’s celebrations. But Karena fancied a dip in the cool depths of the ocean. Bjorn opened his eyes and inspected her sleepily.

“I am going to bathe in the lake.” Karena tugged one of the furs around herself to conceal her body. Although her husband had seen her almost completely naked, she was still self-conscious. “Do you want to join me?”

“Of course.” Bjorn sat up slowly, tugging his pants up. Gathering the furs tightly around her body, Karena slipped out of their room and down towards the shore. The morning light was only just beginning to brighten Kattegat, and she dropped the furs and waded into the water. It was icy against her skin at first, but she grew accustomed to it almost immediately. She had never been a very good swimmer though, so she didn’t venture too deep – just deep enough so that the water rose above the swell of her breasts.

Bjorn followed her out, sliding his arms around her waist and dragging her to him. She smiled and boldly kissed him. She did not fear rejection anymore. It was clear that Bjorn desired her, and he was her husband in any case. All of this was new to both of them. Her dripping fingers trailed down his chest, head tilting back as his lips travelled down to her neck. He picked her up easily, shifting her legs so that they wrapped around his waist.

Karena moaned as she felt his hard length brushing against her. Although a little uncertain of how well this would go in the water, she was more than happy to give it a try. When Bjorn looked down at her, she licked her lips and nodded. Bjorn palmed at her breast with one of his hands, while the other slipped down to shift himself into position.

Karena took a deep breath as Bjorn pushed into her. It still took a moment to adjust to being filled by him, but there was no pain as there had been the night before, only mild discomfort. She rested her hands on his shoulders as he started to thrust, his movements made a little sluggish by the water. She gasped and fisted her hands in his hair, and he leaned down to suck her nipples, hard from arousal and the cold morning breeze.

Despite her fear of being caught, Karena found herself enjoying this immensely. She rocked her hips against Bjorn, burying her face in his shoulder as he moved deeper within her. Bjorn’s movements became slightly faster, and his heated kisses against her neck didn’t completely stifle his groans of pleasure. After a few last deep thrusts, Bjorn grunted loudly as he finished.

Karena’s legs were shaking as she unwrapped them from his waist. He set her down, tracing patterns up and down her back with his fingers. There was such tenderness in his eyes, and she knew that it was about more than just sex with Bjorn. She planted a kiss on his cheek and waded back out of the water to the shore. She was completely content in her marriage, and hoped it would stay that way.

* * *

Ylva had been having a wondrous sleep before her son had bounded into their room, shaking her. "What is it?"

"I had a night terror.' Jakob murmured, his tone slightly shaky as he glanced over at Rollo who had rolled over.

Ylva sighed before shifting, allowing Jakob room to slot between her and Rollo, who had woken shortly after her. "Come on. In the bed."

Jakob crawled in between them, nestling into the blankets as Ylva drew the covers up, kissing his cheek. Rollo watched the two of them, waiting for them to stop shifting in the bed so he could go back to sleep. He glanced at Ylva to see her watching him. He offered her a small smile as Jakob stared up at him wide-eyed.

"Morning." Jakob whispered, however it sounded much louder in the quiet darkness.

Rollo stretched out, trying to accommodate his large frame in the small space he was provided. He watched as Ylva put an arm around her son, who buried his face in her side. "What were the night terrors about?"

Jakob smiled slightly as his mother stroked his hair tenderly. "People dying in battle."

"You don't need to worry about that for many years yet." Rollo assured him.

"One day I will be a great warrior. Just like you." Jakob told him, having reached an age where he was beginning to grow curious about the art of fighting.

Rollo chuckled at the words. "I will have to train you."

"You will train me?" Jakob was unable to keep the excitement from his voice at the prospect of being trained by Rollo.

"If your mother allows it.” Rollo told him, glancing at Ylva who was watching the two of them.

Ylva nodded. "Of course I will allow it."

Jakob yawned as he went to reply again, however he had decided it was time to go back to sleep. He closed his eyes, drifting off as Rollo stroked his hair in a comforting manner. Ylva continued to watch the two of them, wondering how she had ended up having such a wonderful child and man in her life.

She moved her gaze from Jakob to Rollo as she heard him yawn. 'Sleep."

Rollo nodded. "Are you?"

"I am undecided.' She kissed his cheek. "You are good with him."

Rollo grinned at the compliment, pulling both her and Jakob close to him. His arms encircled them protectively as Ylva nestled her face in the crook of his neck. "Well, I did have practise with Bjorn."

* * *

Bjorn lifted his head as his father strolled into his room. Karena had gone to dine with her family, and it seemed that Bjorn’s family were just as eager to hear about how he had found the wedding night. He had already endured a lengthy discussion with Lagertha, and now his father would no doubt want to talk about the same thing. Ragnar’s eyes were glittering as he grinned down at his son.

“How did you find last night?”

Bjorn nodded slowly. “It was good.”

“How was she this morning?” Ragnar inquired. Bjorn’s mind drifted to earlier when he and Karena had sex in the ocean. It had certainly been different from the previous night, and he could tell she was still a little unsure and self-conscious. Yet Bjorn thought she was beautiful. Many women he knew were shield-maidens, and so they possessed very athletic figures. Karena’s body was soft curves and skin unmarred by battle. Although not a curvaceous young woman, her body still had subtle contours that Bjorn found pleasing.

“How did you know?” Bjorn asked.

“She was limping at breakfast.” Ragnar smirked, flopping back across his son’s bed and clasping his hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. “I will be a grandfather before I know it.”

“You would enjoy it,” Bjorn stated. His half-brothers, Aslaug’s sons, were still very little. A grandchild would be similar in age, so it was nothing that Ragnar would not be used to.

“What makes you say that?” Ragnar glanced at him. “Would you enjoy being a father?”

“I would,” Bjorn said with certainty. It would no doubt be some time before Karena became with child, but they were old enough to be parents, and both of them had younger siblings they’d cared for in the past.

Ragnar scoffed. “You have not been married long at all. Soon you will see what it is like. Just remember who her father is.”

“I am well aware.” Bjorn knew that Karena’s father was a King, that he had technically married about his station.

“Then also be aware that she may be quite like him,” Ragnar warned, surprising Bjorn. Anyone who knew Karena was aware that she was sweet, compassionate and friendly. She could not be less like Horik if she tried.

“I do not think she is.”

“That is because you are besotted with her.” Ragnar’s tone was somewhat mocking. “Do you love her, Bjorn?”

He shook his head. “I do not know her well enough yet.”

Ragnar grinned knowingly. “Ah. So it is just lust.”

“I do care for her,” Bjorn insisted. He may not love Karena yet, but he was protective of her, and wanted to keep her safe. In time, he had no doubt that such feelings would come. For an arranged marriage, it had worked out rather well.

“She is a pretty girl,” Ragnar admitted, ruffling his son’s hair. “You will make fine children.”

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Ylva questioned as she brushed the younger woman’s hair. It was the first time the two had seen each other since the wedding.

"Sore." Karena admitted, wincing as Ylva pulled at a particularly stubborn knot in her hair.

“That is to be expected." Ylva nodded, vaguely remembering what it had been like the first few times for her.

"He was good to me." Karena told her, knowing that it could have been much worse for her.

Ylva nodded. Bjorn was a good man and would make a kind husband for the young woman in front of her. "Well, that is all one can ask for."

Karena shifted in her chair as Ylva began to intricately braid her hair. "We did it again this morning."

Ylva raised and eyebrow. "How was it?"

"Much better than the first time. But still not...I do not know. Are women meant to enjoy it?" Karena questioned, looking over her shoulder at the older woman. She felt so naïve asking the questions, but couldn’t help wanting to know.

"It takes a few goes. I found it uncomfortable at first with my husband." Ylva responded, finishing Karena’s hair and stepping back.

Karena examined her hair, smiling slightly. "Bjorn tries. He does."

"I am sure he does, but you will take time to adjust to it. Give it a week, my dear." Ylva smiled at her as she got to her feet.

Karena nodded. "He is a very sweet husband."

"He seems the type. Unlike his uncle." Ylva grinned.

Karena raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What does that mean?"

"Bjorn is sweet, Rollo is not. I heard you were set to marry him originally." Ylva had heard the rumours weeks before and it had astonished her that her father would’ve considered such a marriage. Bjorn was a far better man for his daughter than Rollo.

"Not set. It was a suggestion." Karena told her as she fixed her dress. "He is much older than me."

Ylva nodded. "Old enough to be your father."

"My father is very happy about my marriage, my brother not so much." Karena admitted. She wished her brother was more accepting of her marriage.


End file.
